


The Place Where We Meet

by Golden4278, mightbeashaniac



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Bottom Ryan, Drama, Eventual Smut, F/F, M/M, Protective!Shane, Romance, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, protective!ryan, royal au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:26:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 48,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28844550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golden4278/pseuds/Golden4278, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mightbeashaniac/pseuds/mightbeashaniac
Summary: When knight Ryan Bergara received the honor of becoming the Prince's personal guard, he didn't know what to expect. He certainly didn't expect to become a babysitter for a spoiled brat and he most certainly did not expect to develop complicated feelings.But as Ryan and Shane's relationship becomes more real, so too does the danger the kingdom faces.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 629
Kudos: 117





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to Libby, Mo, Jacki, Vice, and everyone who helped me on the discord :)

Not for the first time, Ryan wondered what his younger brother would've thought if he saw where he was right now. He knew he’d never find out.

Sir Ryan of Tyneham stood outside the Madej palace, squinting up at the sky as he nervously waited for a guard. The iron gates loomed fifteen feet high, making the knight feel smaller than ever. Taking a deep breath, Ryan stepped back from the castle walls, searching for any signs of a warm welcome. He was met instead with the white, stone castle towering into the sky above him. The heights were dizzying; he could barely crane his neck back enough to see the top. The pointed spires reached towards the heavens like clawed fingers, threatening to drag the clouds down to reality. 

A stern cough jolted Ryan out of his trance. 

“Name?”

Ryan clutched the reins of his horse with clammy palms and looked to the source of the voice. A stony-faced guard wearing glinting chainmail peered through the iron bars of the gate with an air of superiority. He looked the visitor up and down pointedly, waiting for a response. 

“Sir Ryan of Tyneham,” Ryan blurted out, already feeling a little embarrassed, though he wasn’t sure why. The guard turned away and whistled. Stepping back as the gates were slowly raised, Ryan winced at the sound of metal scraping against stone. The man gestured with a sharpened spear, clearly expecting the knight to follow him. 

“The Queen is expecting you.” Ryan nodded; it was still surreal to hear out loud. The guard turned on his heel and began striding purposefully along the stone paving with not so much as a glance at Ryan. _Right now?_

“Oh, well I was actually hoping to take some time to clean up beforehand…” Ryan tried as he trailed meekly behind him.

“No one keeps Queen Diana waiting,” the guard replied without hesitation.

Ryan gulped.

* * *

The cramped entrance opened abruptly into a vast, open space. The interior of the castle was breathtaking: high ceilings with glittering chandeliers; intricate patterns and statues carved into the walls; a broad, curving staircase adorned with candles in elaborate sconces. From above, golden sunlight streamed through arched windows, filtering through bountiful heaps of ferns and ivy hanging from the balconies. He felt as if he was about to be hauled from this place simply for being in the presence of such wealth.

“Why are you stopping?” the guard snapped with a glare. Ryan hadn’t noticed his escort was already halfway up the steps. “Come on.”

Ryan blinked, but obliged. He hurried quietly behind the guard through a blur of halls and staircases, each seeming grander than the last.

Finally, he and the irritatingly silent man approached two towering iron doors. _This must be it..._ Ryan clutched his cold hands together. His escort nodded at two colleagues guarding the entrance with ramrod-straight backs. In unnerving unison, the guards opened the doors, dramatically revealing what could only be the throne room. 

It was too much to process. Ryan could only take in a narrow red and gold carpet, drawing his gaze to two embellished thrones: one empty, one most certainly occupied.

Upon the right one sat a severe-looking woman, her dark locks pinned in an updo with no patience for flyaways. With her scarlet and black dress cinched in at the waist with a silver-encrusted corset, she cut an imposing figure. Her lace ruff created a silhouette behind her head, reminding Ryan of those reptiles with flaps of scales around their necks. He kept his head down as he followed the guard along the carpet, vigilant to avoid any signs of disrespect. 

“Sir Ryan of Tyneham,” the guard announced before stepping to the side. 

Ryan bowed as deeply as he could. “It is an honour to meet you, Your Highness.”

When the Queen smiled, she was a different woman. “Likewise, Sir Ryan. Your reputation precedes you.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Ryan responded, unsure of where to go from here.

Queen Diana considered him for a moment. “What were you told about your duties regarding my son?”

He knew this one. “It’s my responsibility to ensure he comes to no harm. I vow to keep Prince Alexander safe.”

“Ah, yes…” Queen Diana responded airily. “Well, it’s more than that.”

Ryan was silent, waiting for her to continue.

“I’m sure you’re aware my son’s reputation precedes him as well, in a less than flattering light.”

Ryan remained silent. He'd heard rumors, but he wasn't willing to agree or disagree with that statement.

“Alexander’s behavior is unfitting for a future king. He’s a sweet boy, but he lacks restraint. He’s on the wrong path.”

Ryan wasn’t sure how on earth he was supposed to fix that. “I see, Your Highness.”

“He doesn’t listen,” she lamented, sounding very much like his own mother. “I trust your ability to keep confidence, so I’ll be frank: this is the last resort. _You_ are the last resort.”

Ryan maintained an impassive expression through his confusion. “Respectfully, Your Highness, I don’t quite understand.”

“He’s a brat.”

Now she definitely sounded like his mother.

“Alexander does what he wants, when he wants. He seems to think consequences don’t apply to him. I specifically chose you for this position in hopes that you’d serve as a role model.”

“I can do that.” Ryan had no idea if he could do that.

Queen Diana smiled. “That’s it, then. Keep Alexander safe and keep him in line. I have faith in you, Sir Ryan.”

“Thank you...”

“I'd like you to begin your duties right away. Now..." The Queen's gown flared out as she stood up. She was quite tall. "Let me introduce you.”

* * *

_Knock, knock, knock._

No answer. 

_Knock, knock, knock._

No answer again. Well, this was uncomfortable. Ryan looked away, biting his lip.

“You see what I mean?!” the Queen thundered. Ryan swallowed and agreed meekly.

The imposing woman nodded at the guard to the left, who pushed the heavy door open. They stepped into grandiose chambers with oaken floors and dark, paneled walls leading out to an open balcony in the back. A luxurious four-poster bed took the center of the room, gold and red tapestries shrouding masses of silken sheets and cushions topped with thick pelts of fur. Flickering chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings above bathed the room in a warm light, accompanied by the sun, trickling through the glass-paned windows and casting shadows in the far corners. Ryan stared around with his mouth agape. As a former peasant, he could’ve never imagined wealth like this.

“Go away,” a muffled voice commanded. Ryan’s jaw almost dropped; who dared address a queen like that?

Queen Diana put her hands on her hips, glaring at the huddled mass under the pile of red and gold silk sheets. “Alexander Cedric Madej, do you know what time it is?!” The sun was high in the sky. “You get out of bed _right now!”_ Her demanding tone quite nearly activated Ryan’s fight or flight response, but the Prince was unmoved.

“Mother, you know I sleep in on Saturdays,” he grumbled from under the blankets.

“You sleep in every day, Alexander. Now get up and meet your new guard. You knew he was coming today.” Ryan couldn’t imagine she’d ever have to raise her voice with anyone else.

“Oh, shit. Right.” With that, a man around Ryan’s age threw off the covers and stretched out his pale arms as he yawned, evidently uncaring that he was without a shirt. Ryan couldn’t help noticing his impressive build: tall and lean, with a broad chest, strong shoulders, and the slightest hint of abs. Just enough muscle to prove he’s had years of training. 

The Prince half-heartedly tried to smooth out his nest of sandy brown hair before apparently giving up. He stood up, instantly at least a head taller than Ryan. His grogginess vanished the moment he laid eyes on his new guard. His masculine features: arched brows, sharp nose, slight scruff, expressive eyes, and thin lips twisted into a boyish grin. “Oh, I think he’ll do just fine,” he said mischievously, as if Ryan was on the outside of an inside joke. “Hello there,” he purred. 

“Um, it’s an honour to meet you, Your Highness.” Ryan dropped into a deep bow, feeling his black cape fall forward. Prince Alexander snorted, because apparently that was funny.

“You too…” He looked to his mother questioningly. 

“This is Sir Ryan of Tyneham.”

“... Sir Ryan of Tyneham,” he finished. “I’ve heard great things. Great, great things.”

Was he mocking him? It was hard to get a read on this man. “I’m flattered you’ve heard of me at all, My Lord.”

“Oh?” _Did he seriously just waggle his eyebrows?_

Queen Diana had clearly had enough. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” She was gone with the slam of the bedchamber door. The two men were left standing in silence. Ryan was determined not to speak until spoken to, leaving his master to start the conversation:

“So… you’re my guard, huh?” Ryan nodded stiffly. The Prince walked in a slow circle around him, inspecting him like a horse for sale. _Step, step, step._ He chuckled. “Didn’t bother to clean up before meeting me?”

Ryan fumed internally, wanting to say _the Queen wouldn’t let me,_ but blaming his master’s mother wouldn’t make for the best first impression. “I apologize for my appearance, Sir. If it pleases you, I can go change-” 

“I didn’t tell you to leave,” Prince Alexander interrupted. He was standing behind Ryan now, giving the distinct impression that he was staring at his ass. Ryan felt suddenly self-conscious in his black, leather pants. The Prince came around to smile brightly. “Yup, you’ll do just fine. You’re a little short, though.” He phrased the statement as if he expected his servant to fix that, too.

Ryan raised an eyebrow, which was the closest he could come to a sassy retort. 

“Oooh, someone’s quiet,” he teased. He sat back at the foot of his grand, wooden four-poster bed. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean that in a bad way. The short thing is cute. I just can’t imagine you fighting someone. Well, fighting someone and _winning,”_ he added with a grin.

“I assure you, My Lord, my skills are more than enough to protect you.”

“My hero.” Alexander smirked, standing up again. “But what about if…” The Prince’s fist swung out towards Ryan’s face in a surprise blow.

 _Thud!_ Prince Alexander Madej was on his ass before his fist even made contact. Ryan’s right forearm had flown up to block the blow, shoving him backwards while his left foot hooked under his attacker’s right ankle, sending him sprawling onto the floor. After all, what kind of knight would Ryan be if he wasn’t able to disarm enemies instantly?

Ryan’s eyes widened as he realized what he had done. “Oh my god, I am so sorry My Lord, are you alright? It was just instinct, you see, I’ve been trained to-”

Alexander laughed from the floor. “It’s all good; I was asking for it. Remind me not to question you again.”

Ryan hastily helped his master up, surprised at how soft his hands were despite the callouses, how they were so large that they enveloped his own... That’s a strange thing to notice.

“By the way, I’m not one to set a lot of rules, but rule number one is you have to call me Shane,” Shane ordered as he dusted himself off. “Not Lord Shane, not Prince Shane, just Shane.”

 _How on earth did he get “Shane” from “Alexander”?_ Ryan wasn’t comfortable referring to his superior this way, but it wasn’t up to him. He nodded.

“You’re my servant, too, correct?”

Ryan cringed internally; he hated that title. “Well, my official position is royal guard-”

“Help me get dressed.” Shane walked behind an intricate folded divider at the corner of his bedchambers, apparently expecting him to follow. 

Knowing he had no choice, Ryan sighed and joined the Prince behind the semi-transparent partition. His jaw immediately dropped when he saw way too much ivory skin at once. Prince Alexander “Shane” Madej was _stark naked._ Standing there, in all his pride and glory, with his hands on his hips, smirking.

Ryan immediately looked away and shielded his eyes while Shane laughed. He was so flustered, he didn’t know what to do. His training never prepared him for this! Once he dared to make eye contact again, (and only eye contact), Shane pointed to the dresser nearby.

“Pants. Go get me some.”

“Right away, My Lord. Uh, Shane.” Ryan rifled through the drawer, finding expensive cotton pants of all colors and styles. “Is there… Um, which pair do you want?”

“Whatever you think I’d look best in,” Shane retorted with a wink. How was Ryan supposed to complete an assignment like that? He chose a pair of undergarments at random: plain, white, and flimsy. 

He carried them over to Shane, who didn’t take them from his hands. “Aren’t you going to help me put them on?”

“You really need help with that?” Ryan asked doubtfully, against his better judgement.

Shane raised an eyebrow, but his hazel eyes danced with amusement. “Are you disobeying me, Sir Ryan?”

“No, no, never, My Lord,” he backtracked as he bent down to let Shane step into the pants. His bare feet were large and calloused, and one ankle was slightly more swollen than the other. He’d probably had a recent injury.

“Did you just call me something other than Shane?”

 _Shit._ “Oh, um, I did. I apologize My Lord; it won’t happen again.” Ryan carefully pulled the pants up to Shane’s hips, noticing how the blonde hairs on his sculpted legs were hardly visible. The scars, however, were plainly visible. And the prince’s “well-endowed” features could be seen from a mile away. He tried his best not to look. Ryan let the waistband settle naturally at the prince’s hips, sliding his thumbs over his soft lower belly and the sharp indents of his hip bones as he took his hands away.

Shane laughed. “You just did it again.”

Ryan went red. He'd never expected to screw up this job so quickly. “Oh, I’m s-s-sorry,” he stuttered out. 

Shane frowned as he took in Ryan’s flustered expression. “Hey, don’t worry about it, buddy. You know I’m teasing you, right? It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Ryan responded quietly, looking down at his feet. “I promise I’ll do better... Shane.”

He almost jumped when Shane gently lifted his chin to face him. “You really are nervous, huh?”

_How could I not be nervous when he’s touching me like this?!_

“No,” Ryan lied.

Shane’s frown deepened as his hand fell away. “We… are going to be spending a lot of time together. I’d like us to be honest with each other.”

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Ryan blurted.

Shane raised his eyebrows. “Me? Nothing. No offense, but I didn’t ask for a babysitter.”

Ryan clenched his fists. He didn’t go through years of training and risk his life repeatedly to be called that. “I don’t see it that way. I’m here to protect you… you have to be aware of all those who want you dead.”

Shane grimaced and crossed his arms. “Fair enough, I guess.”

The scars criss-crossing the prince’s thighs were still on Ryan’s mind. “Did they ever…?”

“Hurt me?” Shane finished. “No, they haven’t. If they had, I’d be dead already.” The prince hugged himself tighter and looked away. What happened to the Prince’s extended family went unspoken. Nonetheless, he wasn’t expecting a royal to display vulnerability so easily. For the first time, Ryan felt a pang of protectiveness in his chest.

“Well, you don’t need to worry about it. Not anymore. You’ve got me now.”

Shane uncrossed his arms and smiled softly. “It seems I do.”

This sudden warmth was disconcerting. “Um, would you like me to grab you an undershirt?” Ryan turned towards the dresser.

“What? Oh, no, don’t worry about it.” Shane waved his hand dismissively. “I can dress myself; I’m a big boy.” The arch of his brow dared Ryan to comment.

“Understood,” Ryan turned to leave, but his superior grabbed his arm.

“Hey Ryan?”

“Yes?” He tried to ignore the way his heart jumped at the use of his first name; it was far too intimate.

Shane looked at him sympathetically. “Look, if we’re stuck together, I want you to be comfortable with me…”

He almost scoffed. He’d literally never felt less comfortable than he was right now, considering the man still hadn’t even put on a shirt.

“This is all new to you, isn’t it? You don’t know anyone here?”

Ryan nodded.

“This palace can be a lot, I know… But listen, if you have any questions, I’m here, okay? I just want you to know, that as your _master…”_ He phrased the word sarcastically. “Obligations go both ways. You don’t have to be frightened, Ryan, because I’ll look out for you, too.”

_Why the hell were those eyes so earnest? What, exactly, was he implying?_

“I don’t need protection,” Ryan said coldly. “And I’m not scared.” 

Shane’s face fell as he released Ryan’s arm. “Alright.” 

“Permission to be dismissed?”

“Of course.” He sounded somewhat disappointed. Not that it was Ryan’s problem. If he really wanted his servant to stay, all he’d have to do was give an order.

Of course, the moment Ryan stepped out into the stone hallway, he realized he had no idea where he was supposed to go. The two men guarding the royal chamber were gone, apparently figuring the new guy had the job handled. _God damn it._

The newcomer waited for a good amount of time, but no one passed by. He supposed he could wander around for the servants quarters, but with his luck, he’d enter somewhere he wasn’t supposed to or get hopelessly lost. Ryan resigned himself to do what he had to do.

He knocked on the bed chambers door. It swung open quite suddenly. 

“Back so soon?” Shane smirked. The Prince was fully dressed now. The naked man from earlier looked dashing in a loosely-fitting white linen shirt with a wide collar and a low, pointed neckline. The purple breeches underneath were a bold choice. Shane adjusted the shirt, pulling the embroidered cuffs down his wrists as he held the door open with a pointed riding boot that came up to his knees.

Ryan cleared his throat. “Yeah. Sorry, I just wanted to ask where the servants quarters are…?”

“Is that where they said you’d be staying?” Shane shook his head. “No, that won’t do…” He rubbed his chin for a moment. “Oh, hey! There’s a bedroom right next door. Usually reserved for royal guests, but we’ve got tons of those and people hardly use this one so...” He shrugged. 

_A royal guest room?!_

“Um, I don’t think-”

“I’ll walk you.” Not that it was much of a walk. Ryan didn’t understand why the Prince was so eager.

With a small smile as they rounded the corner, Shane stopped outside a heavy wooden door and pushed it open. Ryan gawked in disbelief as he took in the various shades of browns with white accents and amber lighting. While more humble than the chambers next door, the place was far more impressive than anywhere he’d ever dreamed of living. The warm glow from a fireplace illuminated a four-poster bed, neatly covered in cream-colored sheets and lavish cushions. Beneath a small window in the corner was a wooden chair and a desk topped with candles and matches. The simple, cozy design almost reminded him of home. He tried to push those thoughts away.

An entryway at the back led to… a private bathroom?! He rubbed his eyes, but sure enough, the porcelain, clawfoot tub was still there.

Shane filled the silence: “It’s convenient, anyways. I bet you could hear me if I shouted, so you can come running if someone feels like murdering me today.” He grinned, but Ryan didn’t find that concept remotely funny. The grin faded.

“I don’t have words.” For someone so awestruck, Ryan sounded numb.

The prince shrugged. “Aw, well, don’t overthink it. Considering the sacrifices you’ve made, you’ve earned this. Take the remainder of the day off. Rest. You can start tomorrow.”

_Gotta love when two royals give conflicting orders._

“Shane...” he began carefully. “I really appreciate this. It’s more than I could ever ask for, but I’m your servant, this isn’t appropriate. And what you’re suggesting right now, that’s sleeping on the job… on my first day! You’re generous…”

Shane smiled shyly.

“But others aren’t. If someone finds out…” Ryan raked his hand through his hair as he took in all the luxury. “I’m trying to say that I’d hate to lose this job before I’ve even officially started.”

The Prince frowned, twisting his arm around the intricate wooden pillar on the corner of the bed. “Ryan… you don’t seem to understand. You’re with me now. No one is going to question you; they know you’ve earned this position. Even if another servant did have a concern, they’d report it to me, not my parents. And I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Ryan sighed. “Understood.” He was tired, he was overwhelmed, and he was getting really sick of whatever act this man was putting on. “Is ‘getting some rest’ an order?”

Shane finally looked annoyed. He crossed his arms. “Does it need to be?”

Ryan crossed his arms right back. “I’d really prefer to start my duties-”

“Fine. It’s an order,” Shane snapped. The Prince slammed the door on his way out.

* * *

After he’d left, Ryan stood there wondering why the candles and fireplace were lit in a room that was hardly used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to roast me for historical inaccuracies; everything I know is from Merlin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set in 1500s England. It’s hard to show in writing, but the characters have British accents, so just go with me here pls.

After bathing, Ryan faced the looking-glass standing in the corner of the room. His family didn’t own any mirrors, besides his mother’s small hand one, so the only places he usually saw his reflection were in windows, pools of water, and, if he polished it enough, the blade of his sword. There’s probably a metaphor there. 

Ryan wasn’t sure he liked what he saw. It certainly wasn’t Sir Ryan of Tyneham looking back at him in the mirror. He supposed the man was moderately handsome, with a strong jawline, tousled black hair, and keen eyes, but he felt disconnected from his foggy reflection. Growing up in the military, he was at a disadvantage with his round cheeks and small build. It wasn’t easy garnering respect when he looked childish in comparison. 

More than that, even when he’d earned his battle scars, he still didn’t feel like a knight. At least, not the kind he’d read about growing up. He tried to be chivalrous, of course, but Ryan wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t a savior or a protector. He was a debtor, trying to make up for what can never be repaid, no matter how many lives he saves. 

Regardless, he is still _not_ a babysitter.

* * *

He only intended to lay his head on the pillow for a moment, but when he awoke the candles mounted on the wall were burning low and it was dark outside. _Damn it._ He’d probably missed dinner and he’d definitely missed lunch. It was the royal manservant’s first day, and he was doing fucking fantastic.

 _Knock, knock, knock._ Would the Prince even still be there?

After a pause, Shane kicked the door open and leaned against it with a shit-eating grin. “Good morning, sunshine,” he trilled. 

“I’m so sorry,” Ryan rushed out. “I didn’t mean to oversleep, I was only planning-”

Shane waved his hand dismissively. “It’s fine. You missed dinner, though.”

Ryan’s stomach growled in response. “Sorry.”

Shane smiled. “Someone’s got a little tummy demon.”

Ryan didn’t laugh. 

Shane drummed his fingers on the door. “Okay… Well, I had someone bring you up some supper. You should, y’know, eat.”

Shane ushered him into his bedchambers, gesturing to a small table covered in platters of venison, bread, cheeses, and fruit. His mouth watered. The lavish spread was more extravagant than Ryan was used to back home.

“It’s just leftovers.” Shane gently pushed him towards the table. 

“You mean this is all for me?” Ryan sat down, gawking at the spread of food.

“No, it’s for my other manservant.”

Ryan turned around. “You have another one?”

“No…” Shane sighed. “It was a joke- nevermind. Just eat.” He grabbed an apple off the table and sat back on a stone ledge, facing Ryan. He leaned back and unlatched the window, opening it wide to allow a cool breeze to drift in.

Ryan stopped chewing. It would be just his luck that the Prince would fall out a fucking window on his first day.

“Could you like... not?”

Shane raised an eyebrow. “Not what?”

Ryan gestured vaguely with his fork. “Not, like, fall out and die. At least not on my watch.”

“Aww, worried about me already?” Shane cooed.

 _Fuck off._ “It’s kinda my job.”

“Fair enough.” Shane closed the window.

Ryan received one moment of glorious silence before his superior was prattling again:

“Hey, do you like horses?”

Ryan frowned. He’d ridden horses for the past decade, but he’d never thought about whether he _liked_ them. They were a necessity.

“Oh.” Shane laughed at himself awkwardly. “You’re a knight; you must’ve come here on one.”

“Right.” Ryan put his chalice down, realizing something. “My horse, I handed her off to the door man before I met your mother... I haven’t seen her since. Is she okay?”

He didn’t understand what those long looks were supposed to mean. Probably concern. “Of course she is, Ryan. She must be at the stables. Don’t worry, the stable boys are taking great care of her.”

Ryan nodded, feeling his chest loosen a little. He ripped apart a piece of bread.

“What’s her name?” Shane asked softly. “Your horse,” he added, when Ryan looked confused. It should’ve been an obvious question, but the brain fog from his long journey hadn’t cleared yet.

“Chestnut.”

Shane smiled. “Chestnut. That’s cute. Does it mean anything to you? Why'd you choose it?”

“I didn’t. It was her name when my battalion gave her to me.”

“Oh.” Blissful silence again. “Um, I was asking because I wondered if you’d like to ride with me sometime? I can show you around the area.”

“Whatever you wish, My Lord.”

Shane frowned. “That wasn’t an order…”

Ryan got started on his grapes. Sweet, purple ones. So different from the tart, red ones back home.

His master scratched the back of his head. “Speaking of tours, you must’ve barely seen any of the palace yet. I’d be happy to show you around.”

Now that would be helpful. “That’s so kind of you, Shane. Thank you.”

“Of course!” he replied brightly. “We have gardens, and a library, a ballroom, an archery range… Do you like archery?”

Again, whether he _liked_ it had never been the question. “I would appreciate the opportunity to improve my skills…”

“Oh, okay. Well, you’re free to use it whenever…” 

This silence lasted much longer. Ryan eventually looked up after he’d consumed everything in sight, patting his mouth with a napkin. Shane was facing away from him on the ledge, gazing out the window. Far different from the cocky prince who made snarky comments, this man seemed thoughtful, introverted… lonely. 

Ryan could relate.

“I do like to read,” he offered shyly. “Would you mind showing me the library sometime?”

When Shane turned his head, it lined up with the full moon behind him, giving his beaming smile a halo effect.

* * *

“That’s all you have?” Shane asked when a servant brought Ryan’s bag up from the servants quarters.

Ryan clutched the small brown sack that contained all his belongings. “Yes,” he answered defensively. “I could only bring what I could carry with me.”

“No, I didn’t mean that in a judgemental way, I just…” Shane pulled up his long legs to sit cross-legged on the ledge. 

_Spit it out already._

“Would you like to go to the market with me? We can get you some new stuff. It’d be nice, because I’m actually not ‘allowed’ to go by myself… My sister Katie, well Princess Catherine to you, has always had a personal guard, but as a man, I’ve been expected to be able to defend myself to a degree. Y’know, before what happened to my dad’s brother and his family…”

“I’m so sorry, Shane,” Ryan said sincerely. He remembered when the news arrived at his village; it was horrific.

“Thank you… But yeah, it’s been annoying because I used to not be able to go to the market without multiple escorts, but now that I have you…” he trailed off hopefully.

“I’m here to be with you wherever you go, Shane. The one thing is…” It was embarrassing. “I don’t have any money. Not until I get my first pay next week.” He’d left everything behind with his family; they were why he was here, after all.

Shane frowned. “My mother didn’t have you paid in advance? That’s not right,” he said decidedly, hopping down from the ledge.

Ryan panicked. “It’s fine, it’s totally fine, please don’t bother the Queen for me. She’s paying me handsomely; I have no complaints.”

“If you say so…” Shane sat down across Ryan from the table. Again, it was too intimate being in such close proximity. “But anyways, I wasn’t implying you’d have to pay for your stuff. The kingdom will provide everything you need…”

“I don’t need anything,” Ryan answered quickly. Sure, he only had five shirts and three pairs of pants, but it’d last him a week.

“God damn it, Ryan!” Shane said exasperatedly, bringing his hand down on the table. “Yes you do. You have nothing-”

The former peasant had heard that too many times.

“You deserve more than the barest necessities. I want you to be comfortable here. So we’re going. And if it has to be an order,” Shane sighed, “so be it.”

“Understood.” Ryan stifled a yawn.

Shane noticed. “I’m sure you’re still exhausted from your journey. You should get some more sleep.”

Ryan nodded as he got up.

Shane stepped into his personal space, making his manservant feel the very opposite of comfortable. “I want you to trust me, Ryan… And I understand I can’t just say that, trust has to be earned, but I hope I can earn it, with time.”

Ryan almost, _almost,_ cracked a smile. Maybe this Prince wasn’t so bad. “Thank you, Shane. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Ryan.”

* * *

When Prince Alexander got out of bed in the dead of night and slipped quietly out the door, he thought he’d gotten away with it, as he’s done hundreds of times. It was too easy.

That is, until someone grabbed him from behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess the Queen wants Ryan to _straighten_ Shane out, huh? *nudge nudge*
> 
> * * *
> 
> Thank you again who everyone who helped with this chapter, especially Libby and Pop!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't followed one of my stories yet, you'll be happy to hear I update insanely fast because I get too excited and I need to fill the gaping void inside my soul :)

Ryan slammed Shane Madej against the wall, hoping it was hard enough to _hurt._ The brat winced, then laughed breathlessly.

“Guess I can’t get past you, huh?”

Ryan was fuming, enough to totally disregard his filter. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Shane raised an eyebrow. “Ah, so my manservant _does_ have some personality. Happy to see it.”

“You know what, Shane?! Let me be the first person in the kingdom to tell you _you’re not fucking funny!”_ he growled. 

“Ouch,” Shane said dryly. He tried to escape Ryan’s hold, but was surprised when his guard only pinned him harder, pressing their bodies together in a thin line. Again, the little prat just laughed. “What, exactly, do you think you’re going to do here, Ryan? Keep me against this wall all night?”

“Is that an order?” his servant mimicked.

Shane chuckled. “Well, well, well, Ryan, let me be the first to say you _are_ funny, when you try. Anywho, this has been fun; let’s do it again sometime. But not tonight, as I have places to be.” His face hardened. “Now let me go.”

“No.”

“No?!” Shane struggled harder, but he couldn’t move an inch. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? I’m your _Prince!”_

“Yeah, well I have instructions from the _Queen_ to keep you in line. Your mummy’s orders come first.”

Shane glared. “I knew it,” he hissed. “I _knew_ you were just a babysitter!” This time, he was angry enough to shove Ryan off.

Both men took a fighting stance. 

“You told me you were a guard! You little liar!”

Ryan seethed. “Don’t you DARE speak to me about honesty, Shane Madej! What happened to being open? What happened to TRUSTING each other?!” He pushed the prince so hard, he went flying back onto the ground.

Shane lay sprawled on his back, glaring daggers. Enraged, Ryan knelt over him and planted his hands on the floor, on either side of Shane’s shoulders. This little brat wasn't getting away. He sat back, realising only too late he was now straddling his employer. The employer in question glowered up at him.

“You really can’t tell me what to do, _Sir Ryan_ ,” he spat, writhing under the unrelenting hold. “I’m your Prince; I’m in charge here. You can’t order me not to leave!”

Ryan glared right back, but he couldn’t think of a retort. He was right, after all.

Shane smirked. “See?”

That was the last straw. Ryan dismounted his prince and stood up with as much dignity as he could. He even helped Shane stand up, who hadn’t lost the smug look.

“You’re right, My Lord,” Ryan said calmly. “I _can’t_ tell you what to do. But I CAN do this!”

And with that, he bent down and hauled the unreasonably tall man over his shoulder, carrying him right back to his bed chambers, despite his protests and the insistent pounding on his back with his fists.

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS, RYAN!!!” he bellowed.

Ryan ignored the tantrum and threw him unceremoniously onto his bed, as if he weighed less than a feather. Shane bounced up and down a few times before scrambling to sit up.

The spoiled Prince panted heavily, a red flush rising up his pale chest. Neither spoke for a moment. Shane looked Ryan up and down and waggled his eyebrows. “Well, this certainly isn’t how I planned to end my night, but I’m into it,” he purred.

And then the motherfucker _winked!_

Ryan could have honestly beat the shit out of him right then and there. But unfortunately, that wasn’t in his job description. He glared one last time. “I _trusted_ you!” He spun on his heel and stormed out the door with a _slam_ , missing the prince’s smirk fall into a pout.

As soon as the door crashed shut behind him, Ryan leaned back against the cold stone wall, struggling to comprehend what had just happened. He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t think physically assaulting your employer on day one was exactly smiled upon, especially when that employer was the Prince of England. 

Wringing his trembling hands, Ryan paced back and forth in front of the entryway, breathing heavily. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!_ Surely he was going to be fired, or even worse?

Although, now he thought it over, Shane didn’t seem too furious. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it, the damned prat.

* * *

On the other side of the door, Shane Madej was listening to quite the panic attack. He wasn’t too concerned, considering he was on the verge of one himself. _What the hell had just happened?!_

Prince Alexander Cedric Madej was 26 years old, he was a fucking catch, and he had never, _ever_ been romantically rejected before!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shane: bro quit shielding me from danger with your body, you're going to make the audience think we're gay!
> 
> Shane: brooo I'm serious, stop pushing me up against the wall when you confront me about how reckless and foolish I am, don't you realize how homoerotic that looks?
> 
> Shane: no bro, don't offer to follow me wherever I may go, even to the ends of the earth, that's so gay haha
> 
> [Source.](https://generalgrievousdatingsim.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Help, I'm in love with every character in this story.

_Knock, knock, knock._

Ryan had been sitting glumly by his window, pondering his sacking at best and his imprisonment at worst when he heard the rapping at the door. With a sigh, he stood up and braced himself for his fate. He had gone bravely into every battle; this couldn’t be any worse.

So imagine Ryan’s surprise when, instead of a termination letter or handcuffs, he got… _flowers?_

Shane Fucking Madej was standing there meekly, holding a small bouquet of wildflowers. Ryan was no gardener, but he recognized daisies, dandelions, lavender, even a bright pink rose, in full bloom amongst a cloud of baby’s breath and forget-me-nots. He almost smiled; it smelled like his mother’s homemade perfume.

“Um, these are for you…”

Sir Ryan’s eyebrows almost hit the ceiling. “For what? Kicking your ass last night?”

Shane barked out a laugh. “Sure. I probably had it coming.”

“You did,” Ryan agreed coolly, crossing his arms.

Shane nodded and swallowed. “Yeah, um, well these are mostly for your patience. Y’know, in putting up with me.” He shyly made eye contact. “I’m sorry for sneaking out, Ryan. I hope I can make it up to you.” 

You don’t become one of the highest ranking knights in the kingdom without being able to detect bullshit. Ryan wasn’t buying it. “Does this mean you won’t do it again?”

Shane bit his lip and glanced down at the flowers. “I want to be honest going forward, so I can’t promise you that. I’m sorry...” He looked up with the biggest, brownest puppy-dog eyes that were, frankly, unfitting for the future King of England.

“Then _fuck_ your flowers!” Ryan slammed the door in his face, then instantly regretted it. Well, if he wasn’t sacked before, he certainly is now. He pinched the bridge of his nose, leaned against the wall, and let himself slide pathetically to the cold, hard floor.

_I’m sorry, Mum and Dad. I'm sorry, Jake. I'm sorry, Jacquelyn. I'm sorry, Ana. I'm sorry, Charlie._

No use in apologising to someone who’d never hear it. Not that he isn't trying.

* * *

Shane stormed down the hallway. The stupid bouquet was quivering so much in his grip, he was leaving a trail of white, pink, and blue petals in his wake like a fucking flower girl.

Not that it mattered, right?

Of course, Lance had to pass by at this opportune moment, humming contentedly while he carried a pitcher of water to Katie’s room. His beaming smile turned aghast once he looked down and noticed Shane was still holding the apology gift.

“Ryan didn’t like them?!”

“Apparently not,” Shane gruffed, trying to keep walking.

His sister’s manservant blocked his path. “No, no, no.” He set the platter down on a ledge and delicately took the assortment from Shane’s fist. He gasped. “Shane! The petals… What happened?!” He shot him a steely glare. “No wonder Ryan didn’t accept them!”

Shane sighed. “Actually Lance, the flowers were in perfect condition when I offered them, so maybe you’re not as good of a gardener as you think.”

You’d think Shane just slapped him across the face. “Oh _hell_ no! These were from my _personal_ garden! No, no, no…” Lance looked down at him accusingly (very few could do that to Shane). “Did you not say sorry?!”

“Of course I apologised!” Shane protested. “I said exactly what you told me to; he wouldn’t accept it.”

Lance gave him a disappointed look that lasted so long, it could rival his Mother’s. “My flowers are the most beautiful in this damn Kingdom! If Ryan didn’t accept them, you must have _royally_ fucked up!” He began to storm off, just as dramatically as Shane had earlier.

Shane’s mouth twitched. “No pun intended?” he called after perhaps his only real friend in this world.

Lance turned around and glowered. “And did you have to wreck them after?! I could've given them to my _wife!”_

* * *

After Ryan succeeded in once again alienating the one person who’d offered to show him around and answer questions, he realised, once again, that he didn’t know where the servants quarters were. And he was fucking hungry. Famished enough to let go of his spite, at least until his belly was full. 

Sir Ryan once again put his tail between his legs and knocked on the Prince’s bedchamber door, except this time, there was no answer. Had he finally insulted him enough? Just as he was about to despair, a middle-aged maid passed by, balancing an oversized laundry basket on her hips.

She gave Ryan a suspicious look, narrowing her beady eyes. “Why are you standing there? The Prince is at breakfast with his family.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

The look grew even more suspicious. “The royal family eats breakfast at the same time each day. How could you not know?”

“I’m new,” Ryan tried to explain. “I’m Prince Alexander’s manservant. Could you please direct me to where servants eat their meals?”

After a few curt directions, Ryan was on his way. Thankfully, it wasn't too far.

Anxiously dithering outside the door, Ryan listened to the hubbub of activity inside. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the doors open and stepped in, the noise enveloping him further. The hall was larger than he'd expected: a warm, humid room lined with wooden benches. The tables were crammed with servants, ranging from young girls in aprons, to boys with mud-encrusted boots, to women with flour dusted on their hands. 

“... So we never found that silverware? That’s twice this week!”

The warm atmosphere evaporated upon Ryan’s impromptu arrival. Dozens of unfamiliar faces turned to him expectantly.

“Um, hello…” he said to no one in particular. “I’m Prince Alexander’s manservant. My name is Sir Ryan-”

“Sir Ryan?” a cook interjected. He gave Ryan a stern look. “That means you’re a knight, not a servant. They dine downstairs.”

As hungry as he was, Ryan was even more eager to escape the unfriendly atmosphere. He left without a word.

* * *

When Ryan reached the knights’ quarters, he was met with the same problem:

“You work for Prince Alexander? That means you’re a servant," a knight pointed out in a tone that implied he should've clearly known better. "They eat upstairs.”

He got out of there just as quickly.

* * *

Ryan cursed to himself. So, he wasn’t a servant. He wasn’t a knight, and he sure as _hell_ wasn’t a damn babysitter. What was he, then, besides an outsider? Ryan loitered uncomfortably outside the door of the knights’ dining area, scuffing the toe of his boot on the stone. Where could he go? 

When inspiration inevitably refused to strike, Ryan reluctantly started walking along the corridor. His purposeful strides masked his uncertainty as he wandered, eyes down to avoid the attention of other servants rushing past him. At least they knew where they were going. 

His footsteps echoed down the darkened hallway he had found himself in. As he approached the archway at the end, the morning light poured through the open windows; Ryan had to squint as he stepped through. In the distance, he heard faint singing:

_Greensleeves was my delight,  
Greensleeves my heart of gold  
Greensleeves was my heart of joy  
And who but my lady Greensleeves._

The hallway had opened up, one wall replaced with carved, stone railings; a balcony overlooking the courtyard below. Along the railings hung green ivy, ferns, and colourful flowers in planters. The bright leaves rustled gently in the soft breeze. 

What caught Ryan’s eye most was the source of the singing: a young man who stood at the rails, wearing a navy blue tunic and holding a watering can. He gazed adoringly at the plants, unaware of the newcomer’s presence. Ryan watched as he cupped a white flower bud with a large hand and lifted it to his nose with a small smile. 

He had dark brown skin, broad shoulders and long arms, taut with muscle. He straightened up to reach a vine of ivy above his neatly cropped black curls, taking Ryan aback with his height. _He’s even taller than Shane._ The gardener was certainly physically imposing, a contrast to the tender look in his dark brown eyes as he admired his work. 

The sunlight bouncing off his smile had Ryan thinking he'd witnessed an angel. The pleasant singing was only confirmation.

He straightened up when he noticed Ryan passing by. “Oh, hello there!” 

“Uhh… hi?” Ryan realised that the person he’d been staring at for an inexcusable amount of time was, in fact, aware of his gawking.

“Haven’t seen you around before! What’s your name?”

“I’m new, my name is Sir Ryan of Tyneham. And you?”

His eyes lit up in recognition as he set down the watering can. “Oh, you’re Shane’s manservant! Welcome, Sir Ryan.” He bowed deeply.

The first genuine welcome. If the knight hadn't been trained for years in not displaying emotions, he would've cried right there.

"... I’m Sir Lancelot, but you can call me Lance. I’m Princess Catherine’s manservant, so it looks like we have something in common. It’s quite a unique position; it’s an honour to come to work everyday.”

Ryan bowed hesitantly. “Thank you. It’s been a bit of a challenge so far...” _That was an understatement._ He looked down at his feet. “Honestly, I don’t really know where I fit in here.”

_Or if I fit in at all._

Lance smiled kindly. “That’s because you don’t, at least not at first. As manservants, our roles aren’t well defined, besides keep the royals alive, of course…” He shrugged. "You grow into it after a while. You grow _with_ who you serve. I’ve been Katie’s guard for about a decade now.”

“Ten years?” _How long am I going to be stuck with this petulant child?_ “That’s a long time…”

“Seems like it, doesn't it? I was 19 when I started, so Katie, Shane, and I have kind of grown up together.”

Ryan felt a little daunted by the prospect. Lance was very clearly suited to his role, unlike someone else he knew.

Lance suddenly gave him a searching look, then gestured down at the pristine white flowers he’d been holding. “These are jasmine. I grew them myself..." he said carefully. "Do you like them?”

_Why does this feel like a trick question?_

“Yeah, sure!" Ryan tried to sound chipper. "They’re very pretty!” It was true, anyways.

Lance beamed. “I knew it! I knew Shane was being a prat!”

Ryan had, at this point, decidedly lost track of their conversation. “Oh, um, I’m sorry. What did he do to you?”

Lance crossed his brawny arms. “He insulted my children.”

“Oh, no!” Prince Alexander was an even bigger prick than he’d thought. “What did he say about them?”

“It wasn’t said as much as did.” Lance looked sullenly off to the side. “He threw them on the ground!”

Ryan's mouth fell open. _He did what?_

Lance seemed to realise he’d said too much. “Oh, it’s fine, though.” He waved his hand dismissively. “I have more.” 

Now, Ryan really had no idea how to respond to that. Thankfully, the dead air was interrupted by his growling stomach.

Lance chuckled in his deep baritone. “Sounds like you have a little tummy demon.”

Ryan laughed unconvincingly. _What’s with the people here and their weird phrases?_ “Yeah, I had trouble finding breakfast this morning...”

Lance frowned. “You couldn’t find the servant’s quarters? Or the knight’s?”

“It’s not so much that... more that I couldn't seem to acquire any food.”

“Did we really not have leftovers? That never happens.” 

Ryan shrugged, a non-answer.

Lance picked up his watering can. “Well, that’s not right. This place is minted; no one should have to go hungry here.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Breakfast is probably over by now… but I can show you my orchards out back! Feel free to take anything you'd like. Apples, oranges, pears, peaches…”

Ryan let him carry on as they walked off. He figured he should add to the conversation at some point. “So, what are the names of your kids?” he asked politely.

Lance turned to Ryan and frowned. “What are you talking about? I don’t have any kids.” He immediately resumed talking enthusiastically about his gardening.

The two manservants set off into the bright, summer day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryan's strong; I wouldn't be able to resist Shane outside my door with flowers, no matter how much of an ass he was.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you've seen Merlin, Princess Catherine's appearance is based off Morgana.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to HazelTheHorrific ❤️

Fiona stood outside the Prince’s chambers, plucking up the courage to enter. Before she could, she heard the familiar, deep humming of Sir Lancelot echoing along the stone walls. 

“Good morning, miss!” A large, warm smile spread across his face. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

She self-consciously adjusted her apron and curtsied politely. Hitching the basket of sheets further up on one hip, she beamed up at him. “It is!” she blurted out in a high voice, reaching up to smooth her curly hair down. “I was just delivering clean sheets to the Prince.”

Sir Lancelot graciously held open the door with a winning smile. “After you, milady.”

Fiona mumbled her thanks with a blush and hurried over to the Prince’s chest of clean laundry. Behind her, she could hear Sir Lancelot murmuring.

“Hey, Shane. I wanted to talk to you about your manservant...”

“Hm, what about him?” the Prince sounded interested. Fiona began slowly folding the sheets, trying to prolong her stay so she could eavesdrop. Castle gossip was the only interesting part of her job.

“Sir Ryan didn’t want to bother you with his problems, but he seems to be having some trouble fitting in….” 

As Fiona finished, she reluctantly stood up and slunk out of the Prince’s chambers. As she rounded the corner and carefully closed the doors behind her, she heard Alexander’s shout:

 ** _"What?!”_**

She jumped back as the doors burst open. Prince Alexander looked _livid._ “You there! Your name is Fiona, correct?”

“Yes, My Lord.” Fiona curtsied meekly, feeling both terrified and flattered that a royal would bother remembering her.

Prince Alexander crossed his arms. “Have you met my manservant, Fiona?”

“Sir Ryan? N-No, Sire, I haven’t had the pleasure…” She had gotten glimpses of the handsome Knight from Tyneham in the gardens with Sir Lancelot, but hadn’t felt comfortable approaching. Most of the castle staff disliked him already, as they were envious of special treatment after only working here a few days.

Prince Alexander seemed to believe her. His stern expression softened somewhat. “Okay, please gather all the knights and servants at the great hall immediately on Prince’s orders. We’re going to have a _talk…”_

Fiona wasn’t sure everyone would listen to a 16-year-old maid, but the Prince’s tone was ominous enough to send her hurrying.

* * *

After days of the cold shoulder from castle staff, Ryan was suddenly getting no shoulder at all… He could barely get anyone to make eye contact with him. Did they treat all former villagers this way?

Regardless, it only made Ryan more grateful for Lance’s warmth and friendliness. The two ate together now.

* * *

After their fight, Ryan hadn’t been sure how to act around his employer. It was clear he wasn’t going to be fired at this point, but Shane’s relaxed, open manner had changed. The smirks were gone, the flirty jokes were gone, the witty comments were gone... He was more closed off than usual, which, as Ryan thought it over, was fair enough. The Prince had _really_ made an effort to apologise, but Ryan had lashed out. It wasn’t his fault that Ryan had trust issues. Shane had even brought him the stupid flowers, which Ryan had stupidly thrown in his face. 

One morning, Shane broke the uncomfortable silence.

“I’m going to sword practise today,” he announced to the room at large, as if he didn’t want to address Ryan directly. Ryan had been standing awkwardly by the door with a ramrod-straight back, waiting for a threat that never seemed to arrive. Was this how nannies felt?

“Very good, Sire. I’ll accompany you.” This wasn’t an offer; it was simply a given. All Ryan seemed to do over the last couple days was follow Shane around the castle.

* * *

The castle grounds were spectacular. Even on such a dreary day, Ryan was amazed he’d get to call this place home. The neatly trimmed grass surrounding the courtyard was lined with beautiful statues that Ryan found himself looking at even more than Prince Shane, who was maddeningly prancing about with the other knights. The most magnificent was that of a large, marble phoenix, its majestic wings spread wide; its beak frozen mid-shriek. It resembled the crest that Ryan had seen emblazoned on the shields of guards.

To Ryan’s left, Lance knelt on the grass, tending to the flowerbeds with no shirt and a ridiculous sun hat, blissfully unaware of the admiring looks directed his way. A woman in a green dress sat on a chair beside him, reading and studiously ignoring the men showing off behind her back. Even far away, Ryan could just about hear Lance’s content humming, a deep tune that drifted over the breeze. The melody was splintered by the metallic _clash_ of blades from the courtyard.

Eventually, Ryan grew bored enough to study Shane’s swordsmanship. He was impressive, of course. You can't expect anything less from a Prince. However, what he had in energy and enthusiasm, he lacked in restraint and focus. He shouldn’t have been surprised that this man didn’t know how to hold back.

“Hey! Sir Ryan of Tyneham! Would you like to join in on the fun?” At Shane’s suggestion, the knights turned to Ryan with interest.

 _Was this a challenge?_ Ryan shook his head. 

“Oh come on, show us how a _real_ knight fights! We’d love to learn.” Shane fluttered his eyelashes obnoxiously. 

“I’d rather not, Sire,” Ryan responded tersely. “You all fight valiantly on your own.” 

“Come on, don’t be a spoilsport! You have a very impressive reputation.” Shane turned around in a slow circle, playing up to the crowd with raised hands and a cocky smile. “Don’t you all want to see his skills?”

Lance stopped gardening for a moment to cheer along with the crowd. “Show ‘em what you’ve got, Sir Ryan!”

Ryan pressed his lips together in a thin line. He knew he was being goaded.

“Aw Ryan, we protect each other, remember?” Shane reminded him mockingly. “I won’t rough you up too much. Here, I’ll make it so we’re on equal grounds.” He reached over his head and pulled off his helmet, throwing it to the side with a grin. He then discarded his breastplate and shoulder guards, stripping down to a loose tunic and trousers just like Ryan. “Don’t make me command you.” 

Ryan frowned, annoyed at Shane’s ability to order him around like he was some sort of… well, servant. He stood reluctantly, rolling his shoulders back.

Shane beamed. “Gwaine! Lend him your sword.” A burly knight stepped forward and unsheathed his blade.

Ryan accepted it with a curt nod. The weight felt foreign and unbalanced in his hands, making him long for his usual broadsword. Shane stood in the centre of the crowd, lazily swinging his sword back and forth in one hand with a nonchalant smile spread across his face. He watched with interest as Ryan took a matching stance.

“Ready?” he stage-whispered with a smirk, knowing full well that Ryan was _perfectly_ ready. Ryan answered with a flash of his sword, using both hands to slice the blade through the air.

Instinctively Shane deflected the attack and stepped aside with an exhilarated smile. “Is that all you’ve got, _babysitter?”_

Ryan seethed. He had a _lot_ more than that, but not if he wanted to keep his job. “How about you save the insults until you actually land a blow, My Lord?” he challenged as he dodged another hit.

Incensed, Shane slashed at the manservant again, throwing all of his weight behind the strike. 

Ryan ducked easily; the single advantage of his height. 

“Are you even trying?” the Prince sneered. He swung his sword again, trying to cover up his annoyance as Ryan sidestepped him again.

“Trust me, Sire, you wouldn’t want me to.” Although Ryan was _itching_ to show what he was made of. Especially as Lance cheered him on from the sidelines:

“KICK HIS ARSE, RY!” 

Shane rolled his eyes, lunging at Ryan again. Metal clashed on metal as Ryan deftly countered the attack. “Come on, _Ry_ , you heard him, kick my arse!” 

Oh, did he want to. Ryan kept backing up as Shane advanced, criss-crossing their swords. With his long arms, the taller man had the advantage at a distance. Shane smirked. “Had enough yet?”

Of course he hadn’t, but eventually, Ryan needed to give up. Beating the Prince would be disrespectful. He allowed Shane to knock the sword from his hand. 

Shane glared at him incredulously. “What was that?!” He nudged Ryan’s sword, laying on the ground, with the toe of his boot. 

“I don’t know what you mean, Sire,” Ryan said dryly. “You beat me. Aren’t you happy?”

“Bullshit, I beat you!” Shane strode up to Ryan and pushed his chest. “Fight me for real this time! And that’s an _order!”_

“As you wish,” Ryan said simply. He’d take pleasure in it.

Shane picked up Ryan’s sword and thrust it at him. “Give me your best, babysitter.”

The men locked eyes for a tense pause before Ryan brought his sword up and swung it down upon Shane’s left shoulder, too swiftly for him to block it. _Thwack!_ After the initial surprise dissipated, the Prince’s face burst into an eager grin. “Now _that’s_ more like it.”

No longer playing a defensive game, Ryan launched into another attack, slicing through the air with a _swish!_ He aimed for Shane’s left knee, the one he knew was weak.

A wry smile appeared on Shane’s face as he adjusted his stance. “Low blow, quite literally,” he muttered. With a burst of energy, Shane lifted his sword with both hands, spun around deftly on one foot and swung the blade at Ryan’s thigh. 

Ryan’s mouth twitched as he jumped to the side. Someone was certainly trying to show off. “Who taught you to fight, Sire? Your dance teacher?”

 _Clash!_ The swords met in the middle, leading to a tense face off as they pressed their blades harder together, neither man willing to back down. Ryan was momentarily distracted by the flecks of gold in Shane’s brown eyes. 

“Oh, I’d like to see you dance, baby.” Shane waggled his eyebrows.

“Don’t call me baby,” Ryan growled. He backed up, watching Shane’s brows furrow in confusion. That was, before Ryan reared back and kicked him in the chest, sending him sprawling onto the grass. The sword clattered onto the ground by his side.

Shane tried to lunge for the blade, but Ryan plunged his sword through his opponent’s sleeve, pinning his arm to the ground. Shane writhed on the ground in front of Ryan’s feet, grappling with his sleeve in a doomed attempt to free his arm. The inevitable defeat sinking in, Shane struggled to prop himself up on his elbows, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He glared up at his manservant, his dark eyes daring him to finish the job.

And if this were a real battle, Ryan wouldn’t have hesitated. Instead, he stepped forward and pricked Shane’s chest with the tip of his blade, dragging it carefully up his throat to rest underneath his chin. With the slightest flick of his wrist, he tilted Shane’s defiant face towards his own. “Had enough yet, My Lord?” 

Shane groaned in pain, his face crumpled up and tense. _Oh no, did I actually hurt him?!_ He didn’t mean to; this was why he didn’t want to do this in the first place! Shane whispered something, wide eyes staring into Ryan’s, and outstretched hand wavering in the air. 

“What’s wrong?!” Ryan threw his sword aside in a panic, leaning down to pull Shane upright and assess the damage. Any concern he once had evaporated when the twat fucking _winked_. He yanked Ryan’s hand with surprising strength, sending him careening on down top of him.

Ryan was so relieved and so thrown off that surprised laughter unwittingly escaped his mouth. He gasped and clasped a hand over his mouth. He hadn’t done that in so long; the sound was almost foreign. Shane chuckled underneath him, the low rumble sending vibrations where Ryan’s chest met his. His wild hair was splayed out at all angles, caked with dirt and grass.

And suddenly, the whole situation was so ridiculous that Ryan burst into peals of laughter, rolling off Shane to giggle uncontrollably on the grass beside him. His defeated opponent turned onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow to join in on the laughter. Truthfully, Ryan didn’t even understand what was so funny, but he couldn’t stop, and neither could Shane, it seemed.

Lance had stopped clapping. He came over, looking confused. “You two okay?” 

“Yeah,” Ryan wheezed, “yeah, we’re just-” He looked over at Shane. “What are we doing?”

Shane shrugged and grinned. “Hell if I know. I’m still trying to process that someone actually beat me.” 

Lance helped both men up, still appearing vaguely concerned.

Ryan dusted himself off as best he could. “You know, Shane, something tells me that I might not be the only one who’s been going easy on you…”

Shane’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, you’re right!” He turned to his men. “OY! You lot! Have you been _letting_ me win?!”

The knights shook their heads vigorously.

Shane narrowed his eyes suspiciously and picked up his sword from the ground. “Prove it, then. You’re all challenging me again, right now. And I want to see your best efforts.”

Ryan instantly regretted saying anything. “Sire, you’re already worn out, you could get hurt-”

“That may be true, my dear manservant, but now my reputation’s at stake.”

“These wouldn’t be fair fights, though, they’ve only fought you once and you have been in dozens of fights today!”

“Sit down, Ryan.” Shane gestured to the sidelines with his sword, and began shoddily reassembling the armour that he had so carelessly discarded earlier.

He couldn’t disobey a direct order. Ryan reluctantly sat back on the grass to watch his master get his ass kicked. He made sure to ask Lance where to find a healer later.

* * *

After Ryan watched Shane needlessly overexert himself for a good hour, he had to admit he proved his point. Even exhausted, the Prince managed to defeat all his knights one by one. Ryan almost had to walk him to the armoury: a dingy room stocked from floor to ceiling with weaponry and protective gear. 

“Not too shabby, eh, Ryan?” Shane sat down with a wince, a little bruised, but thankfully not in terrible shape. Ryan smiled, shaking his head, and lifted Shane’s helmet off carefully. The Prince’s hair flopped endearingly over his eyes. His sweaty face was glowing with exhilaration. Ryan had never seen fighting as something to take joy in before a few minutes ago.

“A little sloppy at the end there, but no, not too shabby.” 

Shane laughed. “You’re not too bad with a sword yourself. It’s _almost_ like you’re a knight or something.”

Ryan tried to keep a neutral expression, covering up his pride at the compliment. It was a dumb thing to be happy about; of course he was a good knight, or he wouldn’t be there. He began disassembling Shane’s armour, removing his gauntlets and unstrapping his breastplate.

Of course, Shane Fucking Madej had to ruin the moment. He smirked. “You know Ryan, I feel like I should return the favor... I could help you with _your_ clothes sometime. On or off, it doesn’t matter to me.”

Ryan gritted his teeth and ignored him.

Just then, he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. The doors to the armoury burst open, revealing a tall, young woman. She rounded on Shane with such a heated glare, Ryan wondered if he needed protection.

The woman strongly resembled Queen Diana. She had dark hair pinned up to her temples, pale skin and a stormy expression- one that mirrored her mother’s when dealing with a particularly insolent Prince. The second thing Ryan noticed was her striking resemblance to Shane: they were both tall, and held themselves upright with a posture that exuded pride and stubbornness. This had to be Princess Catherine. The royal wore a long, green gown, with golden lacing on the bodice and wide, embroidered sleeves.

If Ryan hadn’t been so nervous, he might’ve focused more on how devastatingly beautiful she was.

“SHANE!” she thundered. “I heard that! What did you just say?!” 

Ryan averted his gaze and continued unbuckling the straps as if nothing was wrong. Servants were _supposed_ to be invisible, yet no one seemed to allow him to be so here. 

“If you heard it, then why do you need me to repeat it?” Shane said petulantly, clarifying his position as the younger sibling. He stood up to face the other royal. 

In unison, brother and sister put their hands on their hips and straightened their posture, each trying to tower over the other. From Ryan’s vantage point, they seemed to be the same height.

“Sir Ryan,” Princess Catherine began politely, “could you please step away from my _dearest_ brother for a moment?” 

“Of course, Your Highness.” Unfortunately, Ryan hadn’t been commanded to leave altogether. Shane huffed impatiently.

“Shane, do you know what Ryan is to you?” the Princess asked with an air of condescension. 

“Manservant,” Shane grumbled. 

“Good job!” she said sarcastically. “So tell me Shane, who takes orders from whom? Who has control over the other’s livelihood?”

Shane narrowed his eyes. “Technically, Ryan’s responsible for _my_ livelihood-”

“YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT!” 

Ryan jumped at the sudden shout. Shane just shrugged.

“If you’re really that stupid, allow me to explain. As your servant, Ryan is at _your_ mercy. I’m sure he has a family to provide for.” She turned to him. “Don’t you, Ryan?”

Ryan nodded meekly. 

“Look, Katie, I can handle my relationship with my manservant. You’re being inappropriate-” Shane started, but he clearly lacked the upper hand.

Her eyes flashed. “You know what’s inappropriate?! Sexually harassing an employee! Someone you _know_ can’t defend themselves, can’t report you, can’t do anything without risking their livelihood.” 

“I’m not sexually harassing him!” Shane snapped, purposefully avoiding Ryan’s gaze. “I’d never touch him without his consent. Or _anyone.”_ He crossed his arms defensively. “What do you think I am, some kind of creep?”

Princess Catherine ignored the accusation. “Have you considered how _Ryan_ feels about this? At all?” She let that sink in. “Let’s say you ordered him to sleep with you, what choice would he have?”

Ryan blanched at the notion. He was bisexual, but expressing one’s attraction to other men in his line of work was unacceptable to the point of being dangerous. He’d been conditioned to repress that part of himself. 

Shane’s face got red. “Katie! You know me! I’d never do that; you _know_ I wouldn’t!”

“I do,” she answered coolly, then gestured at Ryan. “But does he? He’s only known you for how long?” 

“A few days,” Shane muttered, not looking at either of them. “But I was just joking…”

“You’re not funny,” she said bluntly. “Now apologise.”

Shane turned to Ryan with obvious reluctance. “I… I didn’t mean it like that, you know that…”

“I SAID APOLOGISE!”

“Fine, fine!” Shane threw his hands up in frustration, before rearranging his stony expression into something more sincere. “I’m sorry, Ryan. I never intended to make you uncomfortable around me.”

“It’s alright,” Ryan responded quickly, desperate to reduce the tension. “Apology accepted.”

Katie nodded, seeming satisfied. “Thank you for your grace, Sir Ryan. Hopefully this one-” She gave Shane a dirty look. “-will learn something from you. And if he ever makes disgusting comments again, please come right to me.” She glared at Shane. “I’ll be watching. Lance will be as well.”

She turned on her heel and left the armoury as suddenly as she entered, leaving Ryan in awe.

Shane’s annoyance flared when he noticed Ryan’s expression. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you fancy her, too. Why is everyone obsessed with her? She’s not _that_ pretty!”

“Uh, no,” Ryan said awkwardly. “I just, y’know, I never thought I’d get to see a real princess…” She was straight out of his storybooks.

“What?! But _I’m_ a real prince, and you never-” Shane sighed. He slumped down on a metal bench nearby. 

_Was that a cue?_ “Would you like me to finish removing your armour?”

“Sure, uh, in a minute.” He looked up at Ryan with real regret in his eyes. “Listen, um, I really am sorry, Ryan. I didn’t realise… I mean, I probably should have. I’m an idiot. I just…” He sighed again. “As my mother would say, I speak without thinking.”

_Nicely put, Diana._

“… I don’t take myself seriously, and no one else here does either, so I didn’t expect you to think I was actually, uh, propositioning you…”

Ryan raised an eyebrow. _What the hell was he doing, then?_

Shane scratched the back of his head. “Uh, your job is safe with me. _You_ are safe with me.” He cleared his throat. “I have no expectations from you, uh, regarding that. Honestly, I didn’t even hire you, so I don’t really expect you to do anything.” 

_Except everything you’ve ordered me to do._

Ryan nodded. “Understood, My Lord. Um, Shane.” While he hadn’t been genuinely bothered by the comments, it was still a relief to hear. He could tolerate a boss who was an idiot without clear boundaries, rather than a true creep. 

Ryan disassembled the rest of Shane’s armour in silence.

* * *

Even after removing his dirty uniform, Shane was still caked with mud. 

“This, uh, is probably the worst thing to say following our previous conversation, but would you mind drawing me a bath?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A homoerotic sword fight and the promise of a homoerotic bath... what else could you need?
> 
> * * *
> 
> If anyone feels like drawing that scene of Shane and Ryan laughing on the grass together, you'd have Libby and Erin's undying love.


	6. Chapter 6

Shane felt a little awkward leading his manservant to the bathing room, but he supposed it was part of the job. Ryan immediately got to work, busying himself preparing the bath. Shane watched as steam rose, slowly filling the air with warmth. 

This was one of his favourite places in the palace. The large, square room had white counters lining three of the walls and golden tiles leading the eye to a raised, circular slab of marble in the center of the room. A generously-sized tub was inlaid inside. The small windows were close to the ceiling, limiting natural light in favour of the candles and the fireplace, which cast dancing reflections along the walls. 

Shane’s manservant leaned down and stuck his hand in the water, testing the temperature thoughtfully. He straightened up and added a few drops of lavender oil. Ryan crossed over the dimly-lit room, hanging a towel on a rail by the fire to warm it up. 

“Uh, is that to your satisfaction?”

Shane stuck his hand in. The water was as warm as it could be without being too hot. Ryan had gone somewhat overboard with the bubbles, but Shane figured it was so he wouldn’t accidentally see the crown jewels. Whatever makes him comfortable, right? “It’s perfect. Thanks, Ryan.” 

He wanted to call him “Ry”, but it felt like something he had to earn.

Ryan nodded and turned away to stare stubbornly staring at the fireplace at the back wall. Shane smiled and disrobed before stepping into the water and repressing a hiss at the heat. “Um, I’m all in and covered,” he called out, as non-flirtily as he could. 

Ryan turned around and looked relieved to see that the foam was doing its job. He took his post by the door, apparently protecting Shane from anyone who dared interrupt his royal bath. He looked down determinedly at his shoes. 

Shane smiled at Ryan’s modesty. As a knight, undressing and bathing in front of other men was practically part of the job. You’d think he’d have gotten over the embarrassment by now.

Truthfully, his servants usually left at this point, but Shane figured this could be an opportunity to chat a bit, now that Ryan had somewhat warmed up to him. He’d try his best not to ruin it.

Shane ran his hand through his scalp, feeling more mud than hair. “Uh, could you pass the soap, please?”

“Of course, My Lord.” Shane cringed internally every time Ryan said that, but he didn’t want to embarrass him again by correcting him. 

Ryan passed him a bar of ivory soap. “You’re gonna need more than that for your hair…”

“Yeah… could you grab me that bottle?” Ryan handed him a crystal bottle with god knows whatever Katie used in her hair, but it smelled nice. Like roses.

“Um, I could help you, if you want?”

Shane was surprised by the offer. “Thank you Ryan, but don’t worry, it’s not part of your duties.” His older sister’s scolding was still ringing in his ear.

Ryan came over and sat on the marble ledge extending out from the tub. “It’s not your hair that I’m concerned about so much as your cuts and bruises. That can’t feel pleasant.”

It didn’t. Some of those swords had nicked him good. Shane had been keeping his arms and upper torso out of the water to avoid the sting, but the grazes weren’t too bad. Not deep; just irritating.

“I know it hurts, but can you let me clean them? I don’t want you to risk infection.”

The amount of care and concern in Ryan’s tone had Shane speechless. He nodded. 

Ryan grabbed a washcloth off the counter and knelt next to the tub. He gently lifted Shane’s left arm for inspection. Not bad, but there were a few scratches here and there, caked with dried blood. Ryan silently dipped the cloth into the water and began patting the affected areas. He must’ve done this many times as a knight, because the formerly shy manservant was now completely focused on the task at hand, gripping Shane’s wrist with warm hands. He didn’t seem to mind being watched.

“I used to do this a lot for my younger siblings back home, so now I really do feel like a nanny,” Ryan said with a soft chuckle. It was the first time he’d shared something personal without prompting.

“You’re a damn good one,” Shane offered. He didn’t want to pry. He winced when Ryan reached a deeper cut on his shoulder.

“I’m not so sure about that. This one was my doing.” Ryan lightly prodded a bruise forming where the side of his sword had made contact. “I’m sorry.”

It was a strange thing to apologise for. “No harm done, Ryan. I ordered you to fight me.”

Ryan shuffled to the other side of the tub to examine his right arm. “I should’ve been more careful. My one job is to protect you…”

“And you’re doing great,” Shane said earnestly. “I don’t make it easy.” The Prince knew he came off as a total brat. He wished he could explain his behaviour, but it was too soon.

Ryan laughed quietly. “No. You don’t.”

They fell into a comfortable silence. As a royal, Shane was waited on day in and day out, but he wasn’t used to being _cared for_ in this way.

“Oh, hey, this one is still bleeding…” Ryan pulled his cloth away from a deeper scratch under Shane’s collarbone.

“Ryan, I’m sorry,” Shane blurted. “For everything. How can I make it up to you?”

Ryan grabbed a clean washcloth and held it down over the cut. “You can make it up to me…” He gently took Shane’s hand in his and brought it up to the cloth, pressing down before taking his hands away. “By taking care of yourself. Hold it there until the bleeding stops.”

Ryan rolled up his sleeves and moved behind him, emptying some of the soap bottle into his hands.

“You really don’t have to…” Shane reminded him.

“Well, it’s far less painful than watching you try to do it yourself.” Ryan shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

Shane hid a grin. He preferred the teasing over the cold, infuriatingly respectful manner Ryan had displayed over the last few days. “Do your thing, babysitter.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Ryan chuckled. “I really hope we’ve got enough soap.”

Shane frowned. “What do you mean? That bottle is huge.” Katie would kill him if they used it all.

There was a small pause. “You have an extraordinarily large head, _my liege.”_

Shane let out a pleased laugh. “You wouldn’t be the first to comment on that. It’s only to fit all my genius, though.” 

“Mhmm…” Ryan tilted Shane’s head back and squeezed the cloth, sending water trickling down his scalp. Warm hands came up to lather his hair. Shane tried not to let out a sigh. His manservant didn’t seem to mind running his fingers through his mud-encrusted hair. Ryan methodically worked his way through the dirt, occasionally digging his nails in when needed. He could feel Ryan’s breath tickling the back of his ears. At one point, the cloth slipped from Ryan’s hands with a _splash!_

“Oh, sorry…”

Shane stiffened as Ryan leaned forward and reached down his chest to retrieve it. His lips were practically touching Shane’s neck as his hand dipped into the water… 

Ryan straightened up and paused, placing his hands firmly on Shane’s shoulders before taking them away altogether. “You okay? You stopped breathing.” 

Shane inhaled quickly. “Yeah, fine!” He made a mental note to not be so obvious. The sudden loss of the soothing contact was jarring. Thankfully, Ryan’s hands slipped back to his hair, rubbing small circles with his fingertips.

It wasn’t clear how much time had passed. Ryan hadn’t stopped massaging his head, and Shane sure as hell wasn’t stopping him. His eyes gradually fell shut. When Ryan’s thumbs reached the nape of his neck, goosebumps erupted down his arms. He shivered.

Ryan noticed. “Are you cold? I could heat up some more water…”

“No, no, I’m good, thank you.” _Please don’t stop touching me._

The kneading resumed. One by one, each muscle released at his manservant’s command. Shane sank lower and lower into the water as the tension eased. He wished those hands would sink a bit lower as well…

“Whoa, hey big guy, you gotta stay awake.” Ryan reached under Shane’s arms and pulled him upright. “You can’t fall asleep in a bathtub. Again, my one job is to keep you alive.”

“Hmm…” Shane agreed groggily.

“You’re all clean, Your Highness.” Ryan stepped away to grab the towel.

“Thank you…” He was a little disappointed by the formality.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ryan said with a smile in his voice as he held out the towel and looked away. He turned back when his master was decent again. “You’re all clean, _Shane.”_

The Prince smiled. He liked the way his name sounded on his manservant’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryan wasn't looking away because he was embarrassed so much as he's used to making a big effort not to appear gay :(
> 
> * * *
> 
> On a lighter note, would you rather be Shane or Ryan in this situation?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stella drew Shane fan art! 😭
> 
> https://shyanbergej.tumblr.com/post/641375409712365568/show-chapter-archive

Rain hammered down on the glass window. The sky outside was dark and grey, clouds covering up any speck of blue. The fireplace in the corner provided the only light, a flickering glow illuminating Shane, standing across a table from a young woman. The two glared at each other. 

“Look,” she said in a low, firm voice. “I don’t want to talk about this either, but-”

Shane threw his hands up in the air. “Then why are we talking about this?!”

“Because we have to!” 

“No we don’t!” he protested. “Look, I know we’re both virgins, but I’m sure we can figure it out on the fly. We know which parts go together...” He demonstrated with some lewd hand gestures.

She recoiled. “EW!!!” 

“Quiet down!” Shane hissed. He’d made a point to have Ryan guard the door from the _outside._ Hopefully the rain would drown out her voice. 

“You’re disgusting!”

Shane rolled his eyes. “Come on, you know what I mean. You’re the one who brought this up, aren’t you?” 

She crossed her arms. “Yeah, because whether we like it or not, this is happening. We should have a plan. Y’know, for the night of…” 

“Ugh, I know what you’re getting at.” Shane ran his fingers through his hair, turning away. This was _so_ damn awkward. “Fine. What are you thinking?”

“Well, the whole court is gonna be just outside the door, right? Did you ever think about getting rid of that creepy tradition?” She cocked her head, challenging him.

“Oh no, that thought had never occurred to me,” Shane spat. She’d always assumed he possessed more power than he actually had. “Don’t you think if it was up to me, I would, Clara?!” 

“Ugh. Fine.” Clara tucked a golden curl behind her ear. “What I’m really getting at, is no one’s going to _see_ us, right?” 

_Oh._ Shane turned to face her. “I’m listening...” 

“The only real evidence is what they _hear,_ correct?”

“I see.” He’d never thought about it that way.

“So how about we spare ourselves? I’m suggesting we fake it. Not orgasms,” she said flippantly, “because obviously I’d be faking that with you anyways. No, I’m talking about faking the whole thing.” 

_It was certainly tempting._ Shane scratched his head. “Okay, sure, but the whole point of consummation is to ensure we produce an heir. What are we going to do when nothing, uh, pops out in nine months?”

Clara shrugged. “Conceiving isn’t always easy. We could put it off for _years._ We’ll just say you have a little, how do you say it... dysfunction?” she phrased delicately.

Shane gasped, affronted. “Oh HELL no! My penis works _just fine,_ thank you very much. You are _not_ ruining its reputation!” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Ooh, what reputation, Shane? I thought you were a virgin…”

Shane leaned forward, laying his palms flat on the table and holding her gaze. “I think we _both_ know that’s not quite true.” He straightened up and put his hands on his hips. “For you, either.”

Clara didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised, maintaining steely eye contact. “Wow, look at us, finally being honest with each other… Only took, what, 15 years?”

“Well, you should’ve known. Because look at me, Clara…” Shane tousled his hair and puffed out his chest. “Look at this face. Do you really think this body has never gotten laid?”

She scoffed, flipping her long, blonde hair over her shoulder and lifting her chin. “Well, look at me! I don’t think you could find bluer eyes in this whole kingdom,” she sniffed.

“I am looking at you. And I want to be sick.” Shane put his finger down his throat and pretended to gag. “Physically sick, Clara.”

She glared with ‘the bluest eyes in the whole kingdom.’ “I’ve been called the fairest of them all, you know.”

Shane snorted. “Sucks for you, because I prefer my partners tall, dark, and handsome.” He reconsidered. “Well, minus the tall.”

“Handsome?!” 

_Fuck._ Shane bit his tongue. “You know what I mean…”

His betrothed put her hands on her hips. “I’m not sure I do, Shane. We’ve been dancing around it this whole time, how about we say what we _truly_ feel?”

Shane smirked. “Fine with me, Princess. At the same time?”

Clara counted down: “Three… Two… One…”

“THE THOUGHT OF HAVING SEX WITH YOU REPULSES ME!” they blurted in unison.

The royals gasped. “What are you talking about?!” Shane squawked. “ I’m _gorgeous!_ Everybody wants me!”

“And I’m the fairest of them all, you prat!”

“If you aren’t attracted to me, then…” Realisation dawned on Shane’s face.

“If you don’t want to have sex with me, I can’t see you wanting it with any woman...” Clara paused thoughtfully. 

...

...

… 

“You’re _gay_ , aren’t you?!” Clara hissed.

“Oh yeah?” Shane hissed back. “Well, you’re a _flaming lesbian!”_

“The term is flaming homosexual, dipshit! And it’s what _you_ are!” Clara pointed out accusingly. 

“And what about it?! So what if I’m only into men?”

“So what if I’m only into women?!” she shot back. “I don’t want to be with you either! Did you ever think I might want a girlfriend?”

“Did you ever think I wanted something on the side as well?” A certain manservant came to mind…

Princess Clarissa Antonella Abernathy of Scotland considered this for a long moment. “You know…” She tapped her chin. “We could make this work…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DON'T LIE TO US; WE KNOW YOU WANTED A LESBIAN PRINCESS!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: very brief mention of suicidal thoughts.
> 
> * * *
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to Alex! I hope this angst can somehow cheer you up?

Ryan leaned on the stone wall, and, not that he would admit to it, strained to try and hear what was going on at the other side. Unfortunately, the storm outside was too loud. The Prince had been strangely cryptic, saying he had a “meeting”. He’d chosen a room that was hardly used, in an obscure wing of the castle. _What was he doing in there?_

As if Shane could hear his thoughts through the wall, the door opened. Ryan jumped, straightening up and looking expectantly. Instead of Shane, a petite woman stepped out. She had a mass of golden curls, sapphire blue eyes, and the air of what could only be royalty. The way she held herself, the regal posture, and finally the dress. She wore a cornflower blue dress with wide, flowing skirts pulled tight at her waist, and long white silk gloves reaching up to her elbows. Shane followed closely, closing the door behind them.

Ryan tried not to stare _too _much, as the woman swished past him and walked down the hallway, her heels clicking on the stone. She turned, and looked over her shoulder at Shane. Ryan watched, dumbfounded, as the two exchanged a glance. It meant something, but he just didn’t know what. Shane nodded, and the woman turned back on her heel and left.__

____

“Right, let’s go. I thought we might spend some time at the archery range today. What do you think?” Shane started off down the hallway in the opposite direction. He stopped and looked back. “What are you doing, Ryan?” 

____

Ryan was still in awe. “Wow, she was…” 

____

__Shane snorted. “I know. At least she’s got her personality, right?”_ _

____

_What?!_

____

__The Prince took no note of his baffled expression. “C’mon. Before it gets dark.”_ _

____

__“Can I...” Ryan considered his words carefully. “May I ask what that was about?”_ _

____

__“Nothing,” Shane answered, a little too quickly. “It’s business, Ryan. That’s all.” He strode off._ _

____

__Ryan hurried to keep up. The Prince had such freakishly long legs, Ryan had to take three steps for every one of his strides._ _

____

_Who was she, then?_

____

* * *

____

__The grand hall was just that: grand. Flanked with guards under high ceilings and golden, ornate chandeliers, Ryan found himself looking around at his surroundings more than concentrating on the event at hand. Turning his attention to the table, Ryan watched the royals intently. Seated at the head of the table were the King and Queen. This was the first time Ryan had seen King Cedric; he was surprised by his calm, introverted manner. He seemed content to let Queen Diana carry the conversation with their guests at the other end. Ryan knew from castle gossip that they were the royals of Scotland, but not much else._ _

____

__Queen Antonella was petite and demure, with blonde, curly hair pinned up to her temples; the polar opposite of her husband, who was broad and stocky, bearded with dark hair. Beside them was the woman from earlier, docile and quiet. Her two brothers were twins, not much older than seventeen. They strongly resembled their father minus the facial hair. Seated opposite were Shane and Princess Catherine. As Ryan expected, Shane sat in silence, distractedly fiddling with the cutlery while Catherine suggested destinations for the royal family to explore during their visit._ _

____

__Ryan _really_ started to pay attention when the conversation turned to Shane and Princess Clarissa, as she was known._ _

____

__The Scottish queen smiled adoringly at the two. “They’ll make a handsome couple, don’t you think?”_ _

____

_What the fuck?_

____

__“Oh yes!” Queen Diana gushed. “Grandchildren with Clarissa’s hair and Alexander’s height? To die for!”_ _

____

__Princess Clarissa smiled politely before staring back at her plate. Shane scoffed to himself._ _

____

__“I’m so looking forward to planning the wedding! I’ve already got my dress planned out!”_ _

____

__The Scottish king, King Henry, laughed heartily. “You sound just like our Clara. She had her wedding dress designed three years ago.”_ _

____

__Queen Antonella turned to Shane. “What will you be wearing, Alexander?”_ _

____

__He raised his eyebrows incredulously. “What, do you want me to wear a kilt or something?”_ _

____

__“Alexander!” Diana snapped, apparently forgetting there were guests for a moment. Ryan watched as Catherine kicked Shane’s shin under the table. “He’s so funny, isn’t he?” Diana said with a peal of high-pitched laughter. The guests smiled awkwardly._ _

____

__Catherine swiftly changed the topic. “Clara, I was told you also enjoy sewing...?”_ _

____

__The conversation grew dull after that. Ryan spent it stewing over the fact that Sir Trust and Honesty hadn’t bothered telling him he was engaged. He supposed he should have assumed. It’s not like Shane was bound to tell him anything. There’s no reason to feel so betrayed._ _

____

__Ryan tensed as the door opened and servants ceremoniously offered wine glasses to everyone around the table. Here comes the tricky part:_ _

____

__Earlier that week, Queen Diana had explained that as Shane’s guard, Ryan was obligated to taste his drinks beforehand on certain occasions to ensure they weren’t poisoned. He’d heard of this concept before; it made sense and he was happy to do it. Problem was, they’d risk offending their Scottish allies. He had to be subtle._ _

____

__A Scottish servant brought out a bottle of their finest red wine, a gift for the Madejs. He poured into glass after glass, starting with the women. Ryan knew they’d all wait until a cheers to drink together. He carefully stepped forward and muttered in Shane’s ear:_ _

____

__“There seems to be a problem with your glass, My Lord.” He picked it up delicately. “Ah, yes, it’s as I feared: it’s cracked. I’ll just go back to the kitchens and-”_ _

____

Shane’s eyes widened in realisation. “Oh _hell_ no!” he hissed. He snatched the glass back and downed it in one gulp. 

____

__The table went silent. Shane had broken etiquette, in a big way._ _

____

_If the drink doesn’t kill him, his mother certainly will._

____

__The King and Queen were glaring daggers. Shane’s sister rolled her eyes, evidently used to this. Princess Clarissa pretended not to notice, smiling when the servant reached her. Lance handed Princess Catherine back her glass when no one was looking._ _

____

__Shane smiled sheepishly as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “I’m sorry, everyone. I’ve just heard so many marvelous things about Scottish wine; I couldn’t wait!”_ _

____

__The Abernathy family still looked taken aback._ _

____

His sister laughed to break the tension. “You know, Shane, it’d be even better if you'd _savour_ it.” Ryan heard another audible kick from under the table. 

__The rest of the dinner passed without issue, besides the manservant fuming in the corner._ _

____

* * *

____

__Ryan slammed the door after they’d returned to Shane’s chambers. “What the hell was that?!”_ _

____

__Shane turned around with a stubborn expression. “Uh, me not letting you get poisoned for me?”_ _

____

“But it _wasn’t_ poisoned! These are your allies; the risk was so low.” 

____

__Shane shrugged. “It’s the principle, Ryan. I don’t like it.”_ _

____

__Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you forgetting who’s the guard here?”_ _

____

__Shane sat back on the end of his bed. “I don’t care. Just to be clear, I’m not letting you die for me. Ever. It doesn’t matter how much you’re being compensated; that’s above anyone’s pay grade.”_ _

____

__“Except that’s exactly why I’m here. As your personal guard, I’d die before I let anything happen to you,” Ryan said firmly._ _

____

__“And why the hell would you sign up for that?”_ _

____

This was getting a bit personal. “I became a knight to protect people. It’s more than just a job to me. It’s the _principle.”_

____

__Shane sighed. “You barely know me, Ryan. I’m not family, I’m not your best friend. Am I really worth dying for?”_ _

____

__Why couldn’t Shane understand? “It’s not because of our relationship; it’s because you’re the crown Prince of England. You’re important.”_ _

____

__“And you’re not?” Shane challenged. “How would your family feel if you died for me?”_ _

____

_They’d finally forgive me._ “They’d be fine without me. I’ve already left, haven’t I?” Shane opened his mouth, but Ryan kept going: “You know what? It’s more than that. They’d be _proud!_ It’s an honourable sacrifice.” 

____

__“An honourable sacrifice,” Shane repeated, rubbing his eyes. “What a fucking waste.”_ _

____

__“I don’t understand what you mean,” Ryan said coolly. He was beginning to feel insulted; it was as if Shane really did see him as just a nanny._ _

____

“What makes my life more valuable than yours, Ryan? Because I have a title? That’s just words. It’s just money. It doesn’t make me worth _dying_ for.” 

____

__“It’s not the money so much as the power. Shane, you are going to be _King._ Imagine the difference you could make. Your people… their lives are in your hands. Your decisions will mean something.”_ _

____

__“It’s not like I’m the only one who can do this job. If I was out of the picture, Katie would be Queen,” Shane pointed out. “She’s more capable than me. She’s diplomatic, she’s clever, the people love her. Why should it matter?”_ _

____

_Does he not want to be King?_ “I’m not arguing with you there, but _you_ are the first in line. That’s not for us to decide.” 

____

__“I know, Ryan,” Shane groaned, flopping back onto the bed._ _

____

Ryan crossed his arms. “Actually, I’m not sure you do. Your mother has faith in you. We spoke before she introduced us. I’m not just a guard, or a babysitter… I’m supposed to help you grow... into someone who _could_ be King.” God knows how. 

____

__Shane avoided eye contact. “That’s besides the point...”_ _

____

“Well then, there’s nothing left to talk about. Like it or not, if it comes down to it, I _will_ die to protect you. I’m just asking you to not make my job any harder. Let’s say there’s an emergency, and you try to stop me. You’d get us both killed.” 

____

__Shane stood up and got into Ryan’s face, clenching his jaw. “God damn it, you don’t even sound upset about that possibility. You don’t sound scared; you don’t sound like you feel anything! Why are you so fucking eager to die for me?”_ _

____

_Now that was definitely too personal. _“I’m not.” It wasn’t a total lie.__

____

____

__

____“You’re lying,” he growled._ _ _ _

__

____

__

____Ryan backed away, uncomfortable with such closeness._ _ _ _

__

____

__

____Shane’s expression softened. “Ryan, what’s wrong? Are you okay? You know you can talk to me...”_ _ _ _

__

____

__

The amount of genuine concern in those eyes was making Ryan _sick._ “I’m not suicidal!” he snapped. “It’s nothing like that. Stop making me feel like a fucking martyr! It’s a responsibility, an obligation.” 

__

____

__

____Shane stepped forward. “Ryan…”_ _ _ _

__

____

__

“Don’t say my name like that.” _Don’t say my name like I mean something._ Realisation flashed in Ryan’s eyes. “Maybe you don’t understand because you’ve never had any responsibilities. Not real ones.” 

__

____

__

____Shane stiffened, the sympathy melting away. “You don’t know the half of it, Ryan.”_ _ _ _

__

____

__

____“You don’t care about me,” Ryan insisted. “You don’t care about anyone but yourself!”_ _ _ _

__

____

__

____Ryan recognised that expression. It was one he’d seen on the battlefield, when a knight noticed the arrow sticking out of his chest. The genuine hurt bled down Shane’s face for a moment. Then it was gone. Wiped clean._ _ _ _

__

____

__

____“Leave,” the Prince ordered. “I don’t need you anymore tonight.” He stood up and watched Ryan with a cool gaze, any emotion gone._ _ _ _

__

____

__

“As you wish, _your Highness,”_ Ryan kept his voice level, impassive. Uncaring. The words felt foreign in his mouth. 

__

* * *

__

____Once Ryan was outside the door, he felt tears prickle his eyes. He swallowed them down and marched back to his room. He crawled onto his bed and laid on his side, watching the rain hit the glass. He’d had enough of Prince Alexander._ _ _ _

__

____

__

____Fuck this. There’s no reason he should be this surprised, or upset. He knew his role. He’d known from the start that the Prince was a spoiled brat who wasn’t going to make this easy. So why was he so damn upset?_ _ _ _

__

____

__

____Maybe because Shane had gotten a little too close to the truth._ _ _ _

__

____

__

Maybe because Ryan’s words had been so cruel: _‘You don’t care about anyone but yourself.’_ He was Shane’s personal guard, yet he couldn’t seem to stop hurting him. 

__

Maybe because of the sick irony. If Ryan was being honest, the very reason he lashed out was because he realised Shane cared about him. He _genuinely_ cared for him. 

__

____

__

_Who gave him that right?_

__

____

__

* * *

__

____

__

Shane stood stiffly in the middle of his chambers, watching his manservant leave. The door slammed shut, leaving him alone. Again.

__

____

__

Ryan didn’t know what he was talking about. With his damn self-sacrifice, his stupid martyr complex. What an idiot. _‘You’ve never had any’._ He didn’t have a clue. No one did. But that’s what he wanted, wasn’t it? Things were easier if the world saw him as difficult, as nothing but a spoiled brat.

__

____

__

With blurred vision, Shane sat on the window ledge to watch the rain hit the glass. 

__

____

__

It stung that Ryan made such assumptions about him, refused to believe Shane could care about him, insisted that no one needed him, implied that he was worth more dead than alive...

__

____

__

_Who gave him that right?_

__

____

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, these boys are hot and cold.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Ryan and Shane, giggling on the phone:
> 
> "No, I get to die for you!"
> 
> "No, silly, I do!"


	9. Chapter 9

Ryan knew he owed Shane an apology. Multiple apologies. What on earth could he say? He pondered over it as he stood outside his door, just as he’d done every night since he’d arrived here. It was ironic; as a guard, he hadn’t expected that keeping the Prince _in_ would be more pressing than keeping enemies _out._

He yawned, swaying unsteadily on his feet. The sleep deprivation was getting to him, but Shane refused to promise not to sneak out again. What choice did he have?

By the time the sallow light of the crescent moon was visible from the stone windows, Ryan was barely holding on. Apparently horses weren’t the only ones who could sleep standing up.

That is, until he heard two figures approaching down the hall. 

Sir Ryan’s training instantly kicked in, bringing him to full alertness as he unsheathed his sword. Things had been going missing around the castle recently. Were these the thieves? He squinted as the prowlers came into focus. They were… Princess Catherine and Lance?

The lady was dressed as a servant. A _male_ servant, in a plain tunic and leggings with her hair tied up, but it was certainly Princess Catherine. She blushed and looked away, hiding her face. Lance, on the other hand, smiled mysteriously and raised a finger to his lips. His grin only grew at Ryan’s baffled expression. When Ryan mouthed _what the hell are you doing_ , Lance only winked.

He watched them sneak off into the night, scratching his head. He’d heard the rumors, but he’d taken no note of them. The Princess couldn’t be having an affair with her manservant. After all, Catherine was the one who scolded Shane for merely flirting with Ryan. And Lance had a _wife!_

Amazing. Guess you can’t trust anybody in this palace.

Ryan resolved not to tell a soul. Confidentiality is part of the job.

* * *

Shane stood by the window later that night, lighting a torch to avoid fumbling in the moonlight. He threw a dark cloak around his shoulders, and unsheathed his broadsword. He gripped it with his right hand, the firelight flickering in the metallic reflection. 

Just a few more things to gather before he could leave the castle. Taking a deep breath, Shane gently pushed the door ajar, and listened. Nothing. _Perfect._

But of course, when Shane swung the door open, who else but Sir Ryan of fucking Tyneham was slumped against the wall. Initially, his heart jumped into his mouth. _Had his manservant dropped dead on the job?!_ But no. Shane cautiously approached the knight, noting with some relief that he was just asleep. Ryan’s mouth hung open endearingly, his chest gently rising and falling beneath the armour. Thank god.

Relief turned to anger as Shane glared down at the sleeping man, the harsh words from earlier ringing in his ears: _Maybe because you’ve never had any. You don’t care about me; you don’t care about anyone but yourself._ Ryan didn’t know the first thing about him. Shane did care, and he was proving it right then. He was being selfless, right? Shane shook his head resolutely, and turned to leave, quietly shutting his door, and carefully stepping over the outstretched leg of his manservant.

Unfortunately, Ryan chose that moment to let out an adorable snuffle. Almost a sigh, close to a snore. Shane struggled not to laugh for a moment. He turned back and looked at the sleeping manservant once more. Finally, Shane sheathed his sword, sighing.

_Goddammit._

* * *

“Ryan? Wake up, little guy.”

Ryan grumbled at the incessant shaking and squeezed his eyes tighter. He’d been dreaming he was back in Tyneham, trying to wrangle up his family’s chickens, and now they’d gotten away. Pity that you can’t resume your dreams where you left off.

“Ryan? Ryan?!” The voice sounded worried now.

“What d’ya want?” he mumbled. And of course, when he opened his eyes, who else could be there but Shane Fucking Madej, squatting down beside him and looking very concerned.

“Ryan, what are you doing out here? Do you know how late it is?”

“Catching chickens. Or at least, I was _trying_ to!” Ryan squinted in a half-hearted glare. 

Shane frowned. “Have you been at the taverns?”

“Actually, I’ve been trying to stop _you_ from going to the goddamn taverns.” 

“I’m not going to the ‘goddamn taverns’, you idiot,” Shane grumbled. “Now come on, go back to bed. I feel like my bloody mother.”

“No!” Ryan slurred. _“I’m_ the mother here! You go back to bed!” 

Shane smiled and shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe Ryan existed. “For someone who doesn’t want to be a babysitter, you’re doing an excellent impression of one.”

Ryan scoffed. “Well, your cloak’s stupid.” The retort sounded better in his head.

Shane bit back a laugh. “You’re stupid,” he chuckled. “And tired. So go to bed, Ryan.”

“No! Because if I do, you’re going to sneak out again...” he mumbled, already beginning to doze off for the second time.

“Fine.” Ryan’s eyes flew open as he felt Shane get closer. “Fine then. Guess you’re sleeping in my bed.” Hands slipped under his knees and his back. He felt soft, warm breaths in his ear, and suddenly… Shane was carrying him. He’d clutched onto Shane’s shoulders instinctively; he felt like he’d never been this high off the ground.

Ryan kicked fruitlessly at thin air. “What are you doing?!”

Shane ignored him, pushing through the doors to his chambers.

“Let me _go!”_ This was giving Ryan déjà vu.

“Nah.” Shane set him down on the edge of his bed and began taking his boots off. 

“Hey! Those are _my_ boots!”

Shane laughed. “I’m not stealing them, dummy.” He tossed the boots to the side before standing up to remove Ryan’s chest plate and scabbard.

_Is he undressing me?!_

“I am _not_ having sex with you!” It’d probably have sounded more indignant if Ryan hadn’t yawned.

Shane paused and laughed gently. “Is that what you think I’m trying to do, babysitter?” He ruffled Ryan’s hair. “No, I’m not trying to sleep with you. Not tonight, anyways. You’d have to be wide awake for that, because I’d want you to remember every second.” He winked.

Ryan ignored the way his heart rate picked up. “You’re intolerable.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” Shane shrugged off his cloak and dropped it on the floor as he walked around the bed, blowing out some candles on the nightstand. “Now go to sleep.”

Ryan was still sitting on the edge stubbornly, rubbing his eyes.

Shane sighed. “Ryan, if you sleep here, you’ll know instantly if I try to leave. I’m not getting away. And I promise I won’t try anything. Gentleman’s honour.”

“Fine,” Ryan muttered, as if this wasn’t the softest, warmest, most comfortable bed he’d ever been in. He laid down stiffly atop the blankets. It felt much less intimate than the alternative.

“Must I do everything?” Shane groaned, leaning over and pulling some of the covers over Ryan’s shoulders.

Warmth enveloped him, sinking into his very bones. Ryan suddenly felt very content. He relaxed for the first time in, well, he wasn’t sure how long. “You’re really channeling Diana here, Shane,” he murmured sleepily.

Shane groaned. “Don’t talk about my mother when you’re in bed with me.”

It was the last thing Ryan registered before he was fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm interested: where do you guys think the story is going?


	10. Chapter 10

In the daytime, Ryan’s mind had a way of overexerting itself, getting caught in loops of anxiety and spirals of possibilities while simultaneously zigzagging up and down amongst tasks, bouncing back and forth relentlessly between possibilities. Recently, his thoughts had been trudging around and around a certain man, a forbidden possibility. He’d tried to resist, but the rut had paved a circular indent in his brain, so deep and vast that gravity always dragged him back. 

Needless to say, it was exhausting.

At night, Ryan had vivid dreams. He dreamt of home, his family, his farm… He’d begin to wince and twitch in his sleep when the visions shifted to memories of war, of making friends just to lose them in his arms. He was tormented by those he failed to protect, whispering in his ear that he was bound to fail again. Ryan shouted in his sleep only once. He’d been dreaming of Shane, far away in a field, crying out for his help. Ryan ran and ran until his lungs were burning and his legs threatened to give out, but he never seemed to get any closer. The cries never stopped.

Needless to say, sleeping was even more exhausting.

Where Ryan found peace was that sweet spot, the place just between sleep and awake. He was out enough that his mind slowed, filling the tracks and trenches of his brain with molasses, but he was conscious enough that he didn’t dream. 

When Ryan was here, things were simple. 

When Ryan was here, all he needed was warmth and comfort. If it was too cold, he’d pull up the blankets. If his pillow got too warm, he’d flip it over. Too bright, he’d turn away from the window. Solutions were easy, and they were right there.

That sweet spot, the place between asleep and awake, was where Shane and Ryan first met.

It was simple. Ryan was cold, and he was searching for warmth. He yawned and rolled over, towards the source of the heat. He barely registered the sheets rustling or the slow breathing beside him. 

Better, but not enough. His arm blindly reached out until he felt a warm weight beside him, rising and falling steadily. _There he is._ Ryan snuggled shamelessly into the body beside him, laying his head on Shane’s chest and entangling their legs. When Shane shifted, Ryan held on tightly to the soft curve of his waist. He was awake enough to remember his Prince couldn’t get away.

He heard soft laughter, felt it rumbling underneath him. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise.” Shane pulled Ryan close; the warmth seemed to be radiating from everywhere.

Too much noise. “Shut up,” he mumbled. He nuzzled into Shane’s neck, smelling freshly fallen snow glistening on pine needles, the earthy scent of the grass beneath his back, firm and grounded. He sighed in contentment, loosening his tense hold.

“Shutting up,” Shane whispered back, bringing his arm around Ryan’s low back and his other hand to caress his cheek in slow, steady strokes with his thumb. It was enough to send him right to sleep. “Goodnight, Ry.”

* * *

Ryan shifted, taking a long, deep breath. He felt a warm weight slung across his lower back, soft skin peppered with stubble against his face. He was so comfortable; he could stay here forever. A voice breathed in his ear.

“Morning, sunshine.” 

He knew that voice. Ryan jerked his head away. “What the fuck?” 

“What?” Shane turned his head to smirk. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed?” 

Ryan’s eyes widened as realisation dawned upon him. He was _in bed_ with another man, an engaged man, not to mention a royal, not to mention his employer! “What happened? What did we do?!” he squeaked. He pushed Shane away and sat up.

“Ah, what didn’t we do?” Shane sighed. He chuckled at the horrified expression on Ryan’s face. “I mean, I was asleep. Thought you were, too. So what were _you_ doing all night long?” 

Ryan backed up on the bed. He was disoriented from the thick, dark curtains drawn on all four sides, blocking out most of the light. “I didn’t… I didn’t do this!” He looked beseechingly at the crumpled sheets, as if he expected to find answers within the folds of silk. “Hey! You said you wouldn’t try anything!”

Shane looked mildly offended. “I didn’t, Ryan. I made a promise. You cuddled up to _me!”_

“Oh no…” _He hadn't intended to do that!_ Ryan grabbed his head. “I’m gonna get sacked!”

Shane rolled his eyes. “Of course you’re not. How many times do I need to explain this?” 

At the sound of knocking, both men froze. The visitor seemed unwilling to wait, considering the door creaked open immediately after. Shane smirked as Ryan cowered at his side, hoping if he leaned in enough, they’d make only one silhouette behind the curtains. 

“Ah, good morning, Benson!” Shane declared jovially. He wrapped an arm around Ryan’s trembling form, bringing him in close. Ryan hated the way he took comfort in it. “How can I help you this fine morning?” 

“Good morning, My Lord,” came a stern voice from behind the curtain. “You’ve missed breakfast again. The Queen is displeased.” 

“Oh, no. Oh dear.” Shane pantomimed absolute distress. “Do you think she’ll _ever_ forgive me, Benson?” 

There were no footsteps. The servant must still be right there. Ryan pressed his face into Shane’s shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut, praying he’d disappear altogether. He missed the way Shane smiled down at him in response.

“She’s given us instructions _not_ to serve you in your room. My apologies, Sire.” Benson cleared his throat awkwardly. “Queen Diana ordered me to inform you that if you want breakfast, you’ll have to, um, ‘get your lazy arse out of bed…’” he quoted.

A genuine grin lit up Shane's sleepy face. He looked fondly at Ryan as he spoke: “I’ll be sure to be there bright and early tomorrow. You have my word.” 

Ryan thought he’d heard a scoff. “Very well, your highness. Good day.”

Finally, finally, _finally_ , Benson was gone.

Ryan scrambled away the moment the door closed. “Do you think he saw me?!” he panicked.

“No, Ryan, and it wouldn’t really matter either way,” Shane flopped back onto the bed. “This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been caught the morning after.” He winked.

“It _does_ matter!” Ryan insisted, furiously blocking out any mental images of that sentence. “I’m your manservant. I’m supposed to be your most trusted…” A blush bloomed on his face. “To an outsider, it’s gonna look like, like I’ve _s-seduced_ you!” he stuttered out. Ironic, considering...

Shane burst out laughing. “Oh, no!” he exclaimed sarcastically. “You wily temptress, stealing my virtue. How could you?!” 

“I’m gonna get in trouble,” Ryan despaired. “I’m gonna lose my position!”

Shane sat up and put his hands on Ryan’s shoulders. It took everything he had not to flinch away. “Look, the only thing you’re gonna get in trouble for is drooling on me, because this was a nice shirt!” He gestured at his plain, white nightshirt, laced at the chest.

 _I drooled on him?!_ Ryan’s mouth fell open in horror.

Shane groaned. “Oh my god, I’m _teasing_ you!

“I have to go.” Ryan got off the bed, searching wildly for his boots. When he found them, he rushed straight for the door without even putting them on. “Please don’t fire me!” he called over his shoulder.

Shane sighed and shoved his face back in the pillows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has anyone else been watching Bridgerton? It has similar vibes to this fic and I'm obsessed! -Erin
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you're looking for a fresh new demon!Shane fic, I recommend Not So Scary After All by HazelTheHorrific. -Also Erin


	11. Chapter 11

Shane couldn’t fall back asleep. He laid restlessly on his side, annoyed that his mother’s plan to rouse him had worked. The Queen’s son remained under the sheets out of pure spite. Shane knew he had at least another hour of alone time before his sister came pounding on the door, demanding that he get up and do something _princely._ Hmph. 

The reason Shane couldn’t sleep was his goddamned manservant. In the past few days, they’d gone from physically fighting, to laughing together, to sharing an intimate moment in the bath, to verbally fighting (much more scarring), to bed sharing. You know, before the bravest knight in the kingdom ran off like a little girl.

So yes. Shane was exhausted. Shane couldn’t sleep.

He rolled over to his other side, staring at the royal crest emblazoned on a gleaming shield on the wall. A magnificent phoenix rose from the ashes, immortalised in gold. The majestic bird was frozen in a shriek so fiery, it was almost audible. While the wings were majestic, Shane didn’t like the way its eyes glinted from certain angles. The phoenix was always watching. His family’s crest was formerly a dove, a creature that symbolised peace, purity, devotion, hope... 

That innocence was long gone. 

It had been slaughtered along with the rest of his extended family on his father’s side ten years ago. King Cedric’s brother, Phillip, and his family were away from the castle, taking a carriage to tour the islands off the west coast. A band of assassins cut that visit short. No one knows how many, because no one survived to tell the tale. Even worse, they didn’t know which enemy was responsible. As the most powerful kingdom in the land, the list was endless.

 _Endless…_ Shane took a heaving breath as he recalled receiving the news. 

After the messenger had finished, the throne room fell silent. Then Queen Diana, in all her grace, vomited all over the royal carpet. Katie wailed before her cries were strangled by wheezing, hitched breaths. The eighteen-year-old collapsed on the steps leading up to the thrones. King Cedric hadn’t moved from his seat, hadn’t moved at all, really. If he hadn’t blinked every so often, Shane would’ve believed his father had turned to stone. In a way, he had.

And Shane? He was sixteen at the time. All he remembered was holding his sister, coaxing Katie through her panic attack while he ordered some servants to clean up the mess and get his mother some water. And he cried. He cried his eyes out. Strange that he was the only one who did at the time.

His parents coped in the only way they knew how: control. Katie’s personal guard was hired that very day. Sir Lancelot became family to them all, with his magical ability to make the Madejs smile after they’d nearly forgotten how. Meanwhile, Shane’s fighting lessons increased tenfold, any free time sacrificed to learning archery, the sword, the dagger, to sparring with no weapons at all.

Looking back, he’d wished he’d asked for a manservant. As a woman, Katie received hers automatically, but his parents wouldn’t have denied a request for his own. Shane didn’t ask because he’d been arrogant (even more so than the present, if that’s possible). He confronted his fears by convincing himself that he could protect his family, with or without help. What he really wanted was to kill the assassins with bare hands. 

The family crest had been reborn as a phoenix to reassert the family name, to inform all enemies that the Madejs would rise again, no matter the circumstances.

But honestly? Shane missed the dove. He missed his childhood innocence. While no one would consider Prince Alexander “pure”, he liked to think he was pure of heart. He missed a royal crest that stood for gentleness, for mercy, for humanity. After the attacks, national defence became more important than preventing famine and poverty. To the King and Queen, at least. Shane thought that was bullshit.

His thoughts were interrupted by a tentative knock at the door.

* * *

“Katie, I’m up already, you don’t need to-” Shane paused when it wasn’t his sister outside his chambers. 

Sir Ryan of Tyneham stood sheepishly before him, holding… flowers?

Shane raised his eyebrows, flicking his gaze down at the bunch of daffodils, clutched in the fist of his manservant. “Can I help you, flower boy?” 

For once, Ryan didn’t scowl at the teasing. “I’m sorry to bother you, Shane, and I’m sorry for my freak out this morning… Um, I did some thinking, a lot of thinking, and I just...” 

Shane leaned against the door frame, thoroughly unimpressed. “Spit it out.”

“I’m sorry,” Ryan blurted. “I’m really, really sorry. And not just for last night, for everything…” He sighed. “I acted like you’ve been an ass this whole time, and you have, but... not as much as me. I act so honourable; at least _you’re_ honest about who you are...” 

_Wow._

“Ah yes, I’m so _honest_ about not caring about anybody but myself,” he said coolly. “Thank you, Ryan.” 

Ryan blushed. “Shit, no, I didn’t mean… What I said last night, that wasn’t true. You’ve shown me you care since we first met.”

Shane crossed his arms. “Then why deny it?”

Ryan looked to the floor. “Because it’d be easier if you didn’t.”

“What are you talking about, Ryan?”

“I’m your guard-”

“And I’m well aware,” Shane interrupted. “You have to do your job. We’ve been over this.”

“I don’t mean it like that.” Ryan swallowed. “Please listen to me, Shane. I know what it’s like to lose someone. You’ve been through so much already… I don’t want to be another person you have to lose.”

_Oh._

“Ryan…” Shane shifted uneasily from one foot to another. “You… I’m not going to lose you. I’ll make sure of that.”

“You might. But you could always get a new manservant.” Ryan smiled sadly. “One who doesn’t kick your ass so often.”

Shane ignored the quip. He looked Ryan in the eyes. “You’re not disposable, Ryan. No matter what you think of yourself, you’re not replaceable. Not to me.”

Ryan sighed. “I believe you. I hate to admit it, but I do.” 

_Finally._

Ryan glanced down at the flowers. “Lance gave them to me,” he explained, unnecessarily. “He told me you like daffodils.”

Shane smiled. “I do.” 

“So yeah… um, they’re for an apology, but also because I wanted to ask…” Ryan blushed furiously as he looked up to offer the bouquet. “Can we be friends, Shane?” 

_... Can you believe a PRINCE just got friendzoned?!_ But Shane was graceful. “Of course, Ry. It’d be an honour.” He meant it.

Shane watched Ryan’s face flood with relief. He struggled not to grin like a maniac; that might be a bit of a turn-off. He’d only just earned the title of “friend”, he wasn’t about to lose it now.

“Would you like to go riding with me, Ryan?” Shane asked impulsively. “As a friend,” he added, like an absolute fool. 

Ryan laughed. “It’d be my honour.”


	12. Chapter 12

Shane watched with a small smile as his manservant approached his horse, making soothing clicking noises with his tongue. Ryan’s nervousness was endearing; it’s as if he was afraid his horse had forgotten him in the five days it’d been since they’d last seen each other. 

“Hey, hey, Chestnut,” Ryan held out his palm to offer some oats. “I missed you.” he murmured softly, looking delighted when the horse snuffled and ate from his hand. “She’s so shiny!”

Shane looked over the coppery bronze horse, noting with some pride that the stablehands had indeed been taking good care of her. She was glossy and smooth, her eyes keen and bright. Good. Ryan was happy. 

“Where did you want to ride today?” Ryan busied himself getting Chestnut ready.

Shane walked over to his favourite horse, a handsome white stallion named Major. He leaned over the stable gate and offered his hand. The horse nuzzled into his palm. He chuckled affectionately, stroking Major’s muzzle. 

“I used to ride around the forests surrounding the grounds with Katie when I was younger. Before my parents got... paranoid, we were even allowed out there by ourselves.” Shane smiled, but avoided Ryan’s searching gaze. It used to be different. Katie would always show off, standing up in the stirrups and sticking her arms up in the air, trying to grab leaves off of the branches above. Meanwhile, Shane was only trying to keep up with his sister. He’d long since given up. “I was thinking we could ride there?”

Ryan nodded, and turned back to Chestnut.

Once they'd saddled up, the boys set off into the castle grounds. Shane had been cooped up far too long; he’d forgotten how much he loved this. Within a few minutes, Shane was flying down the gravel track in a swift gallop, with Ryan close behind. The only sounds were the pounding of hooves on the stone, the wind whistling in his ear, and his exalted _whoops!_ as he gained speed. Shane found himself laughing gleefully, twisting in his saddle to look back at Ryan.

Ryan, however, didn’t look as triumphantly happy as Shane felt. Instead, he had a sly, concentrated smirk on his face. He flicked his gaze over to Shane, and flashed a grin, spurring his horse on faster, faster. A challenge. _Oh, hell no._ Shane turned back, digging his heels in and focussing on the task at hand. That was, not letting Ryan have the _satisfaction_ of beating him in a race. Especially not after that damned sword fight.

The ground was a blur of rock and dirt beneath the thundering hooves of his stallion. The open sky was interrupted by the dark green cover of trees. The forest became denser and denser. The sun threw rays of light in between the leaves, flashing past them as they galloped along the thin dirt track. Major was Shane’s prized horse for a reason: he seemed to be able to read his rider’s mind, responding quickly to the lightest of touches. They flew over fallen logs, maneuvered around trees and other obstacles with agility and elegance, all the while gaining speed. Unfortunately, so was Ryan. 

As the track widened, Ryan sped up so the men were shoulder to shoulder. Shane turned to lock eyes with his competition for a moment. Ryan looked… His eyes were glinting with adrenaline and happiness, his face flushed with excitement. The sunlight pouring through the gaps in the trees lit him up in a warm glow. 

_Concentrate, Shane._ He could only imagine the shit-eating grin if he lost to Ryan _again._ If he was anything like Katie, he’d never let Shane forget it. 

Shane tightened his grip on the reins, spurred on by the thought of losing again. In the far distance, the track widened into a clearing. Shane looked over at Ryan, who had clearly had the same thought. _Finish line._

“Come on, Major,” Shane panted, nudging his horse’s sides: _faster!_

Fortunately, Major heard, loud and clear. Soaring over a fallen log, they crashed into the clearing moments before Ryan did. Bringing Major down to a trot, Shane circled the clearing, repressing his urge to do a victory dance as Ryan reached the circle of trees. Instead, Shane grinned.

“Had enough yet, Sir Ryan?” he panted, watching as Ryan laughed and shook his head. He looked so lovely when he laughed. It wasn’t a sight Shane got to enjoy very often. Ryan tugged his reins gently, leading Chestnut to where Shane and Major had come to a slow stop.

Ryan didn’t look at all annoyed at having lost this unspoken competition. The gorgeous man smiled openly, flushed with laughter. He leaned across the gap between the two horses until their faces were inches apart. Shane stopped breathing. 

“Never,” Ryan said lowly. His warm breath tickled Shane’s face.

“Uh, ready for round two?” Shane challenged, trying to cover up his sudden and _desperate_ need to kiss his manservant.

Ryan laughed and sat back up in his saddle, opening his mouth to reply. He froze when they were interrupted by an alarming sound in the distance: 

A woman screamed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Growing up, I thought quicksand would be a much more common problem than it turned out to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for editing, Pop! ❤️

Shane stared at Ryan with wide eyes. _He'd heard that, too?_

“Where did it come from?” Ryan asked, looking around wildly for the source of the noise. “Over there?” He pointed at the treeline. 

The harrowing scream came again.

**_“Help!”_ **

Ryan’s blood ran cold. 

“That way!” Shane set off in the direction of the screams, before hesitantly slowing to a stop at the treeline.

“We can’t ride through this." Ryan dismounted Chestnut, looking in dismay at the dense undergrowth on the other side of the clearing. Each man kept one hand on his sheath, ready to pull out their swords if needed. They looked at each other for a moment, nodded, and set off to whatever awaited them.

They hadn’t gone far, shouting desperately and listening for a reply, when they stumbled upon a young, dark-haired woman, appearing to be alone. She was standing at the bottom of a hill in a strange position, up to her calves in thick, dark mud. Her shining eyes widened at the sight of the men.

“Oh!” she gasped, and struggled to step towards them. “My heroes!”

Shane dropped his sword and hurried to her side, ignoring the sludge underfoot. He took one of her hands in his. “What happened, my lady? What do you need?” 

The sludge was underneath a layer of clouded water, dragging the woman into the ground slowly, inch by inch. Ryan’s seen this before...

“It’s quicksand!” Shane, the impulsive prat, ignored him. “Careful! Once you get too deep, you can’t pull yourself out!” 

Shane stepped back, but didn’t let go of the woman. She clutched desperately at his hand, a tear rolling down her pale cheek. “I tripped and sprained my ankle… I can’t move!” 

“We’ll get you out!” Shane stepped forward again and tugged hard on the woman’s arms. His front foot was already disappearing into the mud.

“SHANE!” Ryan wrapped his arms around Shane’s torso and dragged him back to safety. “You can’t do that! You’re bigger than her, you’ll sink even faster!”

“RYAN!” Shane yelled back, struggling against Ryan’s hold. “WE CAN’T JUST LET HER SINK!”

“We’re _not!”_ Ryan looked at the woman, who was now immersed up to her knees. “Lean back!” he instructed. “Sit back as if you’re in a chair! You’ll sink slower!”

With wild, wide eyes, she obliged, leaning back reluctantly. 

“What now, Ryan?! She’s still sinking!”

“I know, I know! We have to be smart about this...” Ryan looked around frantically. If only there was a stick or branch long enough to pull her out…

“Well?!” Shane jerked away while Ryan was distracted. “What’s the fucking plan?!”

“I’m _thinking!_ Stop distracting me!” 

“It hurts,” the woman whimpered, up to her thighs now. “The pressure… I can’t feel my legs!” 

“Fuck this,” Shane growled. “There’s no time!” He tried to run back in to save the woman, but Ryan grabbed his arm.

“You’re the Prince of England!” Ryan shouted. “You can’t risk your life!”

Shane tried to twist out of his grip. “What, so hers doesn’t matter?!” 

She was down to her hips. “Please…” 

“Of course it does! Okay, I’m gonna go find something long enough to pull her out.” 

“There’s no time!”

“Give me _one minute!_ if I can’t find anything, then I’m going in, _NOT_ you!” Ryan ran off.

Shane watched as Ryan disappeared into the foliage, then turned back to the woman. She was crying again, looking down at the brown goop swallowing up her body. Shane paced. How long was Ryan going to be? What if he was too late? What if Shane had to watch as this woman… He couldn’t imagine.

“Don’t panic,” he said uncertainly, attempting to be soothing. “My friend will be right back. We’ll get you out.”

The woman had closed her eyes, breathing deeply.

“What’s your name, milady?” Shane asked, hoping to distract her.

“Elizabeth, sir.” She wiped her tears with a gloved hand, and looked up at Shane.

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you, Elizabeth,” Shane smiled at her, and bowed exaggeratedly. Elizabeth laughed sweetly, raising her arms as if in a curtsey.

“Likewise. Although I wish it was in different circumstances. And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

“Shane,” he answered, looking back into the trees. _Where was he?_ He turned to Elizabeth. The thick mud had crept even further up, reaching her bodice. She whimpered in pain. The sound was a knife to his chest. This was ridiculous. It _must_ have been more than one minute now. 

Shane took a deep breath, and ran towards Elizabeth.

The ground sank beneath him immediately, and he had only made it a few steps towards her when quicksand began lapping at his feet. _Shit._

“Oh, no!” Elizabeth cried out, covering her mouth. “Sir!”

Shane jerked at his feet, trying to ignore the unpleasant feeling of being _dragged_ downwards. The more he fought against it, the stronger the pull felt, and soon, the mud surrounded his shins. He wriggled furiously, but it felt like he was moving in slow motion. _Shit, shit, shit._

With a crash, Ryan burst through the trees, empty-handed, and shouted out at the sight of Shane, sinking fast. 

_“Shane!”_ His face was deathly pale, his eyes wide and flashing. “Why would you-?” He stopped, as if the words had simply escaped him.

“You were taking too long, what was I supposed to do?!”

“Shut up and listen to me!” Ryan’s voice was low, urgent. “Lay down on your back.”

“What?!” Shane asked incredulously. “I’ll sink!” He gestured at the mud creeping up his legs. It was almost at his knees. 

“No, you won’t. Trust me; I’ve dealt with this before!” Ryan stood at the edge, on solid ground. He looked Shane steadily in the eyes. “Shane, look at me. Do you trust me?”

They exchanged a long glance. Shane nodded and lay back, wincing. Just as Ryan expected, he stopped sinking. Now laying flat, the toes of his boots peeked out of the mud.

Shane looked down at his feet, perplexed. “How…?”

“If you redistribute your weight, you can float, since your body is less dense than the quicksand…” Ryan hesitated, looking torn for a moment. “Now, crawl towards her and pull on her arms.”

Shane turned on his stomach and started dragging himself through the mud. Ryan turned to the woman, who was in up to her chest. “What’s your name, Miss?”

“Elizabeth.”

“Okay, Elizabeth, Shane’s going to pull you out. Twist, don’t wiggle or you’ll just create more suction,” Ryan instructed. “Let him pull you out onto your stomach so you can float.”

Shane grabbed her hands and pulled as hard as he could with the limited leverage he had. Elizabeth grunted as she squirmed. Fortunately, her upper torso came loose pretty easily.

“Good. Okay, pull your legs out one at a time. When you get the first one out, lean on the surface with that knee.”

It was strange; Elizabeth seemed to have found something to push off of because her legs came out easily as well. Or was Shane just that strong? Ryan watched the muscles flex in his arms as he strained, never giving up. Finally, her last foot came free with a _pop!_

“Okay, now both of you crawl on your stomachs towards me. Don’t be afraid; you won’t sink like this.”

Shane looked at Elizabeth, and nodded encouragingly. “We can do this.” 

She nodded resolutely back at him, the tear stains drying with the mud on her face. Together they crawled along the mud, for what seemed like hours but must’ve been only thirty seconds. Shane focused on Ryan’s outstretched hand, growing closer and closer. Finally, he grabbed it. Ryan yanked harshly, and Shane stumbled up onto the bank. 

His legs shook beneath him, but he immediately rushed back to the edge, followed by Ryan. They reached out and grabbed Elizabeth’s flailing arms, dragging her up the muddy slope and depositing her gently onto the ground. She looked beyond traumatized; Shane was about to sit by her side and comfort her, but he was suddenly grabbed and pulled into a crushing hug. 

Shane froze for a second in the embrace, but smiled when he felt relieved laughter reverberating through Ryan’s chest. He buried his face in Ryan’s hair and wrapped his arms tightly around his shoulders, pulling him even closer. The two were wheezing in tandem, just happy to be alive. Something occurred to him:

“Ryan, I’m getting mud on you.” Shane tried to sit back, but his manservant held on fast, not allowing him to move an inch.

“It doesn’t matter," Ryan rasped in his ear, hoarse from laughter. "You’re a fucking idiot, by the way.” 

Shane snorted. “You’re not wrong.”

They only broke apart when Elizabeth whimpered behind them: “My ankle!” 

Shane sighed. He _really_ didn’t want to end this hug. He was rarely close enough to smell Ryan’s hair, and he was enjoying it greatly. His dark waves smelled of lemongrass and… was it cinnamon? Reluctantly, he extracted himself from Ryan’s arms and turned to Elizabeth, kneeling by her side and taking her hand in his once again.

“It’s okay, we’ll get you help,” Shane rubbed her shoulder soothingly, and carefully pulled her to her feet. “Here, lean on me. What were you doing out here alone, anyway?”

The woman stood up shakily, still gripping Shane’s hand. Stood at her full height, she was still several inches shorter than Ryan. Her long, dark hair fell in waves down her shoulders, and she was wearing a long, (once) cream gown, cinched in tightly at her waist, with a lace, low-cut bodice. Her white gloves were splattered with mud. She looked up at Shane with adoring, grey-blue eyes. 

“My husband… He was a cruel man. I…” She gracefully wiped a tear away, and looked down. Her bottom lip trembled. “I had to leave; I’ve been running ever since. And then I got lost, and I tripped and got stuck in this damned mud.” She gestured miserably at herself, at the murky water soaking through her skirts.

“We’ll take you back to the palace,” Shane said decisively. “You can warm up there. Our horses… they’re just outside these woods.” 

With that, it was decided. Shane gently slid his arms behind her back, and under her knees, careful not to nudge her ankle, and lifted her up. Luckily, her ankle didn’t seem to be swelling. Ryan leading them onwards through the trees, back to the horses, Elizabeth stuck her head into the crook of his neck. Her hair tickled his chin, and he leaned back. _What was she playing at?_ He pointedly ignored the two as they made their way to the clearing. 

Ryan ended up walking the whole damned way back, because he’d generously offered his horse to the lady, who was taking her “damsel in distress” role very seriously. She only grew more insufferable when she discovered Shane was a _prince!_ Ugh. Did all women in the kingdom fawn over him like this?!

* * *

After instructing a maid to bathe Elizabeth and bring her to the healers, Ryan and Shane bathed separately. Of course, the prince graciously pointed out that the royal tub was large enough for two. Ryan took small satisfaction in the fact that Shane flirted with him more than the very beautiful, very interested woman. 

He frowned as he scrubbed the last of the dirt off his arms. Why was it satisfying? He shouldn’t feel that way… _Oh, it’s because she’s annoying. That’s all._

Regardless of Ryan’s feelings towards her, the woman had clearly been through something. Shane displayed his non-asshole side when he asked a servant to prepare a royal guest room for her. He even offered Elizabeth a job as a maid when she recovered. She batted her eyes incessantly the whole time.

Hopefully, that’s the last they’d have to see of her.

* * *

“Hey, Ryan.” Shane opened the door to his chambers with a warm smile. His ruffled, damp hair stuck up in different directions. “You look better.”

Ryan tried not to beam at the simple compliment. “Thanks. Looks like you do know how to bathe yourself at 26. Nice job.”

Shane laughed. “I figured it out. Come on in.” He walked over to the window sill. “Can’t say I have much for you to do, though.” He turned around and hopped up onto the stone ledge.

Ryan scratched his head and shifted from one foot to the other. “Yeah, I know…”

Shane tilted his head, looking at him expectantly. 

“I was hoping we might... spend some time together? Y’know, since neither of us have much to do...” Ryan couldn’t tell you when he started to actually like this prat.

Shane grinned. “Absolutely. Did you have anything in mind?” 

“I dunno…” Ryan climbed up beside him. “Hey, why do you like this window so much? You’re always sitting here.” 

“Well, look at the view,” Shane gestured out the glass panes. The palace grounds sprawled out for miles, and the sun setting behind the trees lit up the sky in a dull pink. “You can see everything from here.” 

Ryan smiled. “I can’t believe this is your home.”

Shane turned towards him, golden light illuminating half his face, turning his eyes into amber pools of honey. “It’s yours too, Ry.” His hand hovered over Ryan’s knee, before he appeared to regain his senses. 

Ryan pulled his knees into his chest, lest he do something similarly stupid. “Yeah, I guess. But to grow up here…” 

Shane shrugged. “Eh. Don’t get me wrong, I’m beyond grateful, but this isn’t the life I’d have chosen for myself…” He swiftly changed the topic: “You changed your mind today, you know.”

Ryan frowned. “About what?”

“The worth of my life versus others’.”

“I didn’t change my mind about that!” Ryan protested. “I told you not to go after her; I was going to do it!” He crossed his arms. “You don’t listen.”

Shane laughed. “No, I don’t. You still changed your mind, though. You let me save her instead of telling me to come right back.”

“Would you have come back if I did?” he challenged.

“Nope,” Shane answered predictably. “And that’s not the point. When it came down to it, you knew Elizabeth’s life mattered as much as mine.”

Ryan sighed and leaned his head back against the cool wall. “I really am the worst guard, aren’t I?” He tried to stretch out his stiff legs. Since there wasn’t enough room, they swung awkwardly off the side of the ledge.

“Ryan…” Shane reached for his ankles and gently pulled them up onto his lap. Ryan ignored the warmth the small gesture ignited in his chest. “I’m saying this as a compliment. Don’t apologise for knowing all life has value.”

“I’m not arguing with that, I just…” Ryan looked out the window instead of meeting Shane’s gaze. “If something happens like that again, I can’t hesitate. I have to put you first.”

“I think you’d do the same,” Shane said warmly. “That’s the thing about life and death situations… they bring out who you really are.”

Ryan tried to repress the memories triggered by that statement.

“Ryan…?”

He blinked rapidly. “Sorry. Just tired.”

Shane smiled sympathetically. “Understandable. We had quite a day.”

“That’s an understatement.” Ryan rubbed his eyes. “I’m gonna head to bed…” He jumped down from the ledge.

Shane followed suit. “So you do actually sleep, then?”

_Only outside your doors._

“Because to _me_ , it seems like you don’t sleep at all…” Shane said airily, leaning back against the wall.

“And whose fault would that be?”

“Mine. Definitely mine. Which is why…” Shane sighed. “I promise I won’t sneak out anymore. I can’t have you staying up all night for me.”

“Really…?” Ryan actually believed him.

“Yup.” Shane smirked. “Didn’t know ‘fun sucker’ was part of your job description, but y’know…”

“Oh, I dunno, kicking your ass is pretty fun…”

Shane groaned. “Are you ever gonna let me forget that?”

“Nope.” Ryan bowed exaggeratedly. “Goodnight, My Lord.”

“‘Night, babysitter.” Shane bowed in return, straightening up with his signature wink. 

“Hey did you know you can wink with both eyes at once?” Ryan rubbed his chin for a moment. “I think it’s called… blinking?”

Shane barked out a laugh. _“Goodnight,_ babysitter,” he emphasized as he pushed him towards the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, we think Elizabeth's annoying, too. But she did manage to get the boys to work together!


	14. Chapter 14

Ryan swiftly rounded the corner of the corridor, on his way to grab some things for archery practise. He’d gained familiarity with the castle these past few weeks. And while he was now more aware of his surroundings, he unfortunately didn’t consider the fact that he might not be the only one in the corridor. It only occurred to him when a young girl slammed into his chest and ricocheted off his armour, sprawling back on the floor with sheets strewn about around her. _Oops._

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Ryan leaned down and helped the girl up. She looked to be a teenager, maybe sixteen or seventeen, with a round face, a mass of unruly, brown curls, and a maid’s apron. “Are you hurt?”

She straightened up and brushed off her skirt. “Not at all, it was my fault, sir. I wasn’t looking where I was going...” The young girl tucked a lock of curly hair behind her ear with a prim smile. “I’d best be off, sir.” She knelt down to collect her crumpled sheets.

“Wait a moment. Let me help...” Ryan hurriedly gathered the sheets off of the floor and tried to pack them neatly into her basket. _How had she folded them like that?_

He recognized the creamy color. “These are Shane’s... Prince Alexander’s sheets, aren’t they?”

The maid nodded. 

“Here, I’ll take them for you,” Ryan said warmly. He watched as she anxiously fiddled with the strap on her apron. 

“No, sir, I couldn’t possibly…” she began, but eventually gave up, a small smile tugging at her lips at Ryan’s resolute expression. “Are you sure?”

“Of course! I mean, I _threw_ you and the sheets on the floor… it’s the least I can do.”

The young girl beamed at him. “Thank you, sir!” She turned on her heel and started off down the corridor. She paused, and turned. “My name is Fiona, by the way.”

“I’m Sir Ryan of Tyneham, but please call me Ryan.”

The girl smiled sweetly. “I know.” With that, she was gone. 

“Nice to meet you, too..?” Ryan chuckled at the girl’s inexplicably vague response. He set off to Shane’s chambers, the basket of sheets clutched tightly in his arms.

* * *

Shane stood in his chambers, frowning at his bed. The sheets were all wrinkled, the layers were in the wrong order, and the new maid had apparently given up with the fitted sheet, leaving one corner of the mattress exposed. At this point, he was amazed she knew which end the pillows were supposed to go on.

He shrugged. Fiona was only sixteen, after all. Who cares if his bed isn’t perfectly made? The girl will figure it out.

* * *

Ryan was draining Shane’s bathtub when he heard footsteps outside. 

Shane frowned, looking towards the door. “Uh…”

“Stay here.” Ryan grabbed his sword and whipped the door open, hoping to intimidate anyone creeping outside into submission.

“O-Oh!” a woman exclaimed, clutching her ample bosom.

Ryan sighed. “Elizabeth, what are you doing here?” After a suspiciously swift recovery, she’d been conveniently showing up wherever Shane was all week. Because who cares about a twisted ankle when you’re sharing a castle with a _prince!_

Elizabeth curtseyed, leaning heavily on one leg.

“Sir Ryan!” she exclaimed. “I was just.. I just wanted to offer my assistance to Prince Alexander?” 

Ryan narrowed his eyes. “What assistance? The Prince didn’t request anything.”

“Well, I happen to be an…” She fluttered her eyelashes coyly at Ryan (to no effect). “... expert at running bubble baths. I could…?”

Ryan crossed his arms. “Absolutely not. I’m his manservant; that’s _my_ job. And it’s highly inappropriate for a lady to bathe a man.”

Elizabeth waved her manicured hands airily. “After all we’ve been through? It’s hardly _inappropriate…”_

“It is,” Ryan said coldly. 

“You’re such a busy man, Sir Ryan, and so dedicated… I’d be happy to take over some of your duties... _Oh,_ your highness!” Elizabeth gasped as Shane stuck his head out of the doorframe. 

“Is there a problem…?”

“No,” Ryan answered before Shane’s irritating admirer could. “She was just leaving.” 

Elizabeth pouted, gave Shane a lingering look, and turned to leave.

Ryan intended to give Shane a pointed look, signifying _can you believe this woman?_ But Shane called after her:

“Elizabeth?” 

Elizabeth paused and turned back, smiling expectantly.

Shane returned her smile. “I’m engaged.”

Her face fell. It was the first time Shane had acknowledged that aloud.

“Come on, Ryan.” Shane walked back to his tub, despite the fact that it was already drained. “Hey, I’m kinda sore,” he said, louder than was strictly necessary. His voice echoed off the stone walls. “You know that thing you did to my neck after sword practise? Can you try it on my ass...?” 

Ryan bit back a laugh as he backed into the bathing room. “Happily, my Liege! You’ll have to bend over, though…”

 **SLAM!**

Shane and Ryan stood on the other side of the door, silently grinning at each other. When Elizabeth’s sorry footsteps finally receded, they couldn’t contain it anymore: the two burst out laughing. 

“Do you…” Ryan wheezed, leaning against the wall. “Do you just say _whatever_ comes to mind at any given time?”

Shane held his stomach, still laughing so hard his eyes crinkled, making his pupils disappear as easily as his filter. _Did he have to be so goddamn endearing?_

“Basically, yeah,” he wiped tears from his eyes. “Did you see her face, though?”

“Yeah,” Ryan chuckled at the memory of that priceless expression. “I can’t believe you got me to follow along…” Something occurred to him. “But you don’t care what she’s gonna tell people? What if they talk?” 

“Not really.” Shane shrugged, still smiling. “Let them talk.”

“Ah. Now I see where the rumours come from.” Ryan grinned. “You’re not a bad boy, you just don’t know when to shut up.” 

Shane scoffed indignantly and puffed his chest out. “I _am_ a bad boy! I sleep in late every day…” 

Ryan laughed out loud at that. 

“And I’m… often late for breakfast?”

“And lunch, and dinner,” Ryan added helpfully. “We’ll have to work on that.”

“Sure, sure,” Shane agreed, without much commitment.

* * *

Ryan still couldn’t believe he’d made such a lewd comment, especially in front of a lady! His whole purpose here was to get Shane to grow up, and yet Ryan seemed to be growing _down_ , being shamelessly idiotic and giving into his impulses, consequences be damned. He was still chuckling to himself as he prepared for bed that evening.

He paused as he passed the mirror. Sir Ryan of Tyneham was _smiling._ The smile faltered… his reflection frowned and tilted his head, peering closer. His eyes were brighter, the indent between his brows was gone, his jaw no longer appeared to be wired shut… This man looked less like his father, and more like his younger brothers.

It certainly wasn’t the bumbling manservant, worried about being fired on his first day at the castle. His reflection took a step back.

Was Ryan changing Shane, or was Shane changing _him?_


	15. Chapter 15

“Thank you, Benson.” 

Katie smiled as the servant poured her tea. No cream and extra sugar, just the way she liked it. Her mother, on the other hand, liked her tea black. The two women continued looking out at the grounds, watching the hustle and bustle from far above on this cloudy day. The sounds of horses’ hooves on the stone paving, the shouts and calls of guards, and the hurried footsteps of maids filtered up from the courtyard to where mother and daughter sat on the balcony. Katie sipped her tea, turning her attention back to her idiot little brother and his manservant.

The two had been playing with a leather ball for quite a while, though it was unclear what game they were playing, exactly. Shane and Sir Ryan giggled like boys as they took turns trying to kick it through the wings of the phoenix statue, standing on opposite sides as the ball soared back and forth. 

Queen Diana smiled. “It’s wonderful to see Alexander getting outside more.”

“It is,” Katie agreed. “I don’t know why he used to stay cooped up in his chambers all day. Must’ve been boring.”

Her mother nodded. “Sir Ryan seems to have gotten through to him. Alexander was much more polite to Clarissa this past visit. He seemed to have warmed up to the engagement. Maybe Ryan has talked to him about his taking royal duties more seriously.”

Katie repressed a smirk. Princess Clarissa was perfectly lovely, and understood the gravity of the alliance between England and Scotland. Not to mention, witty and sarcastic enough to keep up with Shane. 

When around their parents, Clara’s shy, sweet personality matched her angelic looks: petite with wide blue eyes and honey blonde curls. Katie liked her much better when they were alone. Her round cheeks would flush if Shane annoyed her enough, and her body spoke a different language entirely, sure and commanding. Especially the way she walked down the hallways... a rigid core with her shoulders back, neck long, and eyes straight ahead, never wavering. But her hips swayed however they pleased… 

“Katie…?” Queen Diana prompted. Katie straightened up. Her cheek had been propped up by her hand on the table. Not a royal posture. 

“Maybe, mother...” Katie didn’t think _that_ was the case. Regardless of Clarissa’s charms, the attraction between her and Shane was nonexistent. “At the very least, he’s getting some more sun. He was getting rather pasty before Sir Ryan arrived.” 

Her mother laughed, in a way she only laughed in the presence of her children. “That comes from your father’s side.” She set her tea down, looking confused. “What on earth are those boys doing now?”

Katie set her tea on the table and stood up, leaning over the stone ledge. She squinted. “You know, mother,” Katie turned back to Diana. “I have no idea.” 

The ball had ricocheted off the tip of the phoenix’s wing, landing high up in one of Lance’s willow trees. It was just out of Shane’s reach, and obviously out of Ryan’s. Shane’s manservant tried to climb up to retrieve it (an idiotic idea, really). The long, thin branches snapped off like twigs.

After a moment, the boys looked at each other, grinned, and nodded. Shane knelt down low while Ryan mounted his shoulders, and shakily stood up, gripping Ryan’s thighs firmly. The two swayed precariously, teetering like a drunk stumbling out of the tavern.

“Good lord,” Katie’s mother groaned beside her. “I have a jester for a son. His manservant, too.”

“We’ll have to get them those hats with the bells,” Katie chuckled. “It’d be perfect for the masquerade ball.”

Shane set Ryan down and the two stood there for a good minute, scratching their heads. Finally, Ryan directed Shane to grab the trunk with him and shake, to no avail. A few leaves floated down into their hair. Shane had to bend down quite far for Ryan to be able to brush him off. 

Katie debated between shouting out mocking comments or some half-hearted encouragement, but she didn’t have to decide once she saw her manservant approaching the boys. Lance waved his rake helpfully before handing it to Shane.

Katie snorted as her brother turned to Sir Ryan, waving the rake under his nose in an obvious _'why didn’t you think of that, idiot?'_ gesture that she recognised from many a squabble with Shane Madej.

Sir Ryan snatched the rake out of Shane’s hands- Katie nodded in approval- and set out to get their ball out of the tree. It took another painful few minutes of bickering and Lance’s dutiful help, but they finally succeeded. The boys immediately began kicking the ball in the air again, dangerously close to the tree. 

Katie turned back to her mother. “Wow.”

Diana chuckled and stood up, shaking her head. “As much as I love our tea parties, my dear...” She adjusted her skirts and nodded to her manservant. “I have business to attend to. I’ll see you at dinner, Catherine.”

“Of course, mother.” Katie watched as her mother left with manservant and ladies-in-waiting in tow, then turned back to her little brother.

They were closer now, standing by the well in the courtyard. Katie could _almost_ hear their voices if she strained hard enough. Ryan was talking animatedly with Lance, gesticulating and laughing loudly. But Shane wasn’t really a part of the conversation. He had shut up, for once.

Instead, Shane was leaning on the well’s ledge, gazing at Ryan with an unwavering intensity that she hadn’t seen in quite a while. There was a fond look in her brother’s eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

Katie sighed. _Not this shit again._


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryan: lawful good  
> King Cedric: neutral good  
> Lance: chaotic good
> 
> Queen Diana and Katie: lawful neutral  
> Fiona: true neutral  
> Shane and Clara: chaotic neutral
> 
> Benson: lawful evil  
> The guard at the gate: neutral evil  
> Elizabeth: chaotic evil
> 
> We don’t know what it means that 80% of our characters are chaotic but that’s okay with us :) Erin is chaotic good and Libby is chaotic evil, which makes us interesting co-authors.

Fiona looked at the Prince’s bedspread in dismay. _For fuck’s sake._ She made a mental note not to let Sir Ryan take Prince Alexander’s sheets for her ever again. Now she had to go all the way back to the washing rooms to get fresh sheets and start all over again. _Thanks, Ryan._

Fiona stuffed the mess of sheets into her trusty wicker basket and made for the door.

“Thanks, Fiona,” the Prince called from the bathroom. “Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it in no time!”

Fiona gritted her teeth. She was only a few steps down the corridor when she heard voices from inside the Prince’s chambers. 

“Hey! Respectfully, my lady, what the _fuck?”_

“I don’t know what you mean, Sire,” came a sickeningly sweet voice. Fiona knew that voice: it was that tart the Prince and his manservant found in the forest the other day. The new maid who had no business being a maid; one week in and she’d barely done any work. She spent most of her time sniffing around for easy jobs, and the rest of the time hanging around the Prince’s quarters hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Pathetic.

Fiona paused, kneeling on the floor beside the door, and pretending to rearrange the sheets. This should be interesting. 

“What are you doing here, Elizabeth?” the Prince snapped. His voice echoed out into the corridor.

“Well, I just wanted to see my knight in shining armour…” Fiona rolled her eyes. Plenty of servants had a crush on Prince Alexander, of course, but no one was _this_ obvious. 

“Um, okay? My armour isn’t shining, it’s pretty tarnished actually. Ryan does a shit job of it, to be honest.”

 _Not as shit as his bed-making capabilities._

“Oh, that’s not right. I’m so sorry, My Lord. Are you… in need of a new personal servant?”

“Uh, no.” 

Fiona snickered.

“I’m confused, Sire. You just said he was poor at polishing…?”

“Well, he is. But he’s good at, y’know, other things...” 

“This might not be my place to say this, My Liege-”

“But here you are-”

“-The other day, I heard you ask him to sweep your floors and he said no…”

“So?” 

Elizabeth clearly wouldn’t take no for an answer. She was persistent, Fiona had to give her that. “You ordered him to wipe the mud off your shoes and he said…” She lowered her voice to a whisper. Fiona strained to hear. _“Fuck off.”_

Fiona snorted. The staff had really misjudged Sir Ryan at first. Maybe he wasn’t such a suck-up, after all.

“Your point?” 

Elizabeth was getting exasperated now. “Sir! When you asked him to muck out your stables, he said ‘how about you do it yourself’ _and_ he said ‘do mine while you’re at it’!” 

Fiona’s respect for Ryan skyrocketed.

“Well, maybe he’s right. I should get off my lazy arse every once in a while, like my mother says.”

“My Lord…” Elizabeth tried a new tactic. “Well, since I’m a woman, you could pay me less.”

Fiona was about to slap this woman across the face.

“What are you on about? That’s disgusting; everyone should receive the _same pay!”_

Fiona had heard enough. She’d absolutely rather die than have Elizabeth replace Sir Ryan. Action needed to be taken, and swiftly. After knocking on Ryan’s door and hearing no response, she set off to the kitchens. When he wasn’t with the Prince, he’d either be there, hanging out with Lance, or in the stables with Chestnut. 

Luckily, she ran into Sir Ryan on the way.

“Hey, Fiona-”

“Sir Ryan! You need to come quick!”

His eyes widened. “Is it Shane?” he asked as they rushed down the hall.

“Yes! Well, it’s mostly Elizabeth… She’s trying to take your position.”

Sir Ryan’s nostrils flared. “Oh _hell_ no!” 

They hurried down the corridor, Fiona struggling to keep up with Ryan’s stomping strides. When they reached the doorway, Ryan didn’t hesitate at _all_ in kicking the door open. Fiona sniggered. _This was going to be good._

She was glad to have such an interesting distraction from work. Watching the Prince and his manservant have a go at that whiny little cow was a far better pastime than traipsing up and down corridors making royals’ beds. 

The door swung open and hit the wall with a **crash!**

“What the hell are you doing?!” Ryan demanded, storming through the doorway and standing with his hands on his hips. Fiona followed him inside, glad she could get in on the action. 

“Ryan!” Shane greeted cheerfully, his face lighting up. “My knight in shining armour!”

“Huh?”

Fiona cackled. 

“We were actually having a private conversation,” Elizabeth tried. She took two steps towards Prince Alexander. He took two steps away.

“No, we weren’t! She was just trying to take your job, is all,” Prince Alexander said casually. “I said no, if you were wondering.” 

“Oh, you have some NERVE!” Fiona had never heard Sir Ryan raise his voice like that.

“My apologies, Sir Ryan.” Elizabeth squirmed under the manservant’s penetrating glare. “I wasn’t trying to _take_ your position, I was actually wondering if Prince Alexander needed a _second_ servant-”

“I don’t,” the Prince interrupted. “Ryan’s useless, but he’s mine!”

“HEY!” 

At this point, Fiona was laughing so hard, she had to wipe tears from her eyes. Ryan glowered at his employer.

“Oh I’m just _kidding_ , Ryan!” he chuckled, slinging his arm around his manservant’s shoulder. His manservant shrugged him off. 

“Fine!” Elizabeth snapped, glowering right back. “Enjoy your manservant who’s always up your arse.” She paused. “Quite literally.”

 _Up his what?_

Ryan and Fiona gasped. Everyone fell silent, except the Prince, who laughed even harder. 

Fiona looked back and forth between the parties like it was a tennis match, her mouth hanging open. Ryan suddenly remembered she was there; he began hurriedly ushering her out, shoving her towards the door.

“Hey-!”

“Thank you for alerting me of this situation, Fiona. See you in the servants’ quarters later!”

“But it was just getting good!” Ryan shut the door before she could protest any more. 

_Oh well, I’ll just listen from here._ Fiona held her breath and pressed her ear to the door. 

“We know you’re outside, Fiona!” Ryan yelled. “Go away!”

_God damn it._

Fiona trailed back to the kitchens, dragging the basket behind her. She was surprised that the Prince and his manservant had gotten together already. She thought it’d be _at least_ another week or so. 

_I owe Benson a fiver, I guess..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth: i came here to have a good time and i’m honestly feeling so attacked right now
> 
> Fiona: i came here to have a good time and I am honestly having a GREAT time


	17. Chapter 17

Ryan looked out over the lake, turning to Shane with a smile. It was the perfect day for fishing. The current around the bank was gentle, and the surface of the water was still, reflecting the grey skies overhead. Behind them, the castle towered into the sky, seeming to cast a shadow across the kingdom, but it wasn’t as formidable as it had seemed on that first day. It almost felt like a home now.

The water stretched out further than he’d expected. Everyone in the castle talked about Lake Victoria so casually, he thought it’d be more like the murky pond he used to fish in, back home. He could scarcely see the horizon; the trees on the opposite banks were mere brushstrokes on the skyline. Ryan took his fishing gear from the pack hanging off Chestnut’s saddle and offered the other rod to Shane. Shane gingerly set it on the ground, flopped down onto the grass, and began intently watching the ducks swimming by the bank. Ryan sat beside him. 

Ryan pulled some small chunks of bread from his pocket and speared one onto his hook. Shane flinched in his peripheral vision.

Ryan glanced over, confused. “What’s wrong?”

Shane shrugged, focusing on ripping a handful of grass from the ground beside him. “I dunno… If you want fish, I’m sure they already have some prepared at the palace.”

“That’s not…” Ryan frowned. “Then why’d you agree to come here with me? It’s a nice day; I thought it’d be a way to kill some time.”

Shane winced so subtly at the word _kill_ , anyone else would’ve missed it.

“Are you a vegetarian?” Ryan asked doubtfully. The castle staff brought Prince Alexander meat with every meal.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just…” Shane wrapped his arms around his knees, still looking down. “Don’t make fun of me, alright?”

An interesting request, coming from the man who made light of every situation. “I won’t,” Ryan promised. 

“It just feels like a waste, when we already have food at the palace,” Shane said simply. “How much more could we need?”

“We could just throw them back…” Fishing was usually just a means of survival, but today, Ryan supposed it could be leisure, as well.

“Why? What’s the point of traumatising them for no reason? A _hook_ goes through their _face_ , Ryan!” Shane pulled at his cheek in vivid demonstration. 

“I _know_ that,” Ryan said defensively. “Fine, it was just a suggestion. We don’t have to.”

“Sorry, Ryan. I know you were looking forward to this.” Shane lay back in the grass, his hands laced together across his stomach. 

Ryan huffed. So now, in addition to ordering him about, Shane felt the need to tell him what _not_ to do as well. Wonderful. The two sat in silence for a moment. Ryan chucked a flat stone across the water’s surface, watching it skip three times before being swallowed up, leaving faint ripples in its wake.

It really was a lovely day. Too lovely to let it go to waste.

Finally, Ryan sighed. “Fine.” He held up the bag of crumbs. “Want to feed the ducks, then?”

Shane’s face lit up at the thought. _He really was a child sometimes._

“Yeah, sure!” He scrambled to his feet and pulled Ryan to his feet. “Come on.”

The boys took turns tossing pieces of bread into the water, watching as the ducks quickly took interest, paddling over happily. Two green-headed males pecked aggressively over a larger chunk. Shane laughed and Ryan resisted a smile.

With the tension reduced, Ryan found his curiosity was still lingering. “Why does it bother you so much? Killing the fish, I mean.”

Shane was kneeling at the edge of the bank now, trying unsuccessfully to get a duck to eat out of his hand. “Why would you hurt a living thing for no reason at all?” 

“I haven’t!” Ryan retorted. “Aren’t the royals the ones who go hunting for sport?”

Shane turned back and shook his head vehemently. “I didn’t. Katie loves it, and she’s great at it. But I _hated_ the hunts. I couldn’t stand taking an innocent life, just for the sport of it. I tried to convince father to stop, but he wouldn’t listen. I used to run and hide whenever he planned them.”

“Huh.” _How can someone be such a jerk and so compassionate at the same time?_

Shane sat back and ripped out another handful of grass. “I know. If I was anyone other than the crown Prince, no one would have let me live it down. I’m supposed to be _manly_ and all that…”

Ryan frowned. He didn’t see hunting as an expression of masculinity; he saw it as _survival._ “I grew up… pretty differently. On my family’s farm, we had to kill the pigs and cows every spring. And that was _after_ I named them all.” He pouted as he remembered refusing to eat Daisy and Layla, his best friends at ten years old, no matter how his stomach growled and how disgustingly delicious they smelled. “Eventually, I learned to stop naming them.”

“Ryan…” 

Ryan refused to make eye contact. “It got harder once I had to kill them myself, as the oldest.” He looked down at his hands, thinking about what’d they’d done. Sometimes, they didn’t even feel like his own. “You get numb, eventually.” 

“I can’t imagine, Ryan,” Shane murmured, turning to face him and setting the bag of breadcrumbs down.

“I hope you never have to.” They both knew which man had killed other human beings, and which hadn't hurt so much as a fly. It wasn’t a part of Ryan’s duties, but he vowed to protect Shane from that burden as well. But this conversation was getting dark. “Can I ask you something, Shane?”

“Of course.”

“Your engagement… you never mentioned it. You never talk about it.” 

Shane smirked. “I’m still waiting for the question.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, secretly grateful for his friend’s ability to reduce the tension. “I mean, why don’t you talk about it?”

“What's there to talk about? Clara and I have been engaged for years.” Ryan watched as Shane glanced at him from the corner of his eye, then looked away. 

“For how long, exactly?” 

“Our parents decided when we were kids, I think I was about ten years old. It’s just a business deal. A merger.” 

“Just business…?” Ryan had never viewed marriage that way. It certainly wasn’t the marriage his parents had.

“It’s more of an…” Shane chose his words delicately. “Arrangement.” He shot him another glance.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at...” Ryan said slowly.

Shane was clearly changing tactics. “How do you feel about your job, Ryan? Your role as my manservant?”

“I’m getting used to it,” Ryan responded. “It’s been what, a month now? You’re more tolerable than I expected.”

Shane laughed dryly. “That’s not what I mean. Look…” He pondered for a moment, before speaking carefully. “Technically, you work for my mother, but your job is to serve me. Keeping confidence is part of your role, but for whom?” 

“Is this a trick question…?” 

“In a way, yes. I just need you to answer honestly.”

Ryan thought about it. “Well, ultimately, my job is to protect _you._ I see that as more than just your safety; I have to protect you from your own stupidity as well. To do that, you’d have to be comfortable sharing things with me…”

Shane didn’t refute the jab at his decision-making. “So, if you were to uncover information that would…. possibly get me killed by my mother, you wouldn’t reveal it. So as to…. _protect_ me. No?”

Ryan’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Uh, am I going to be killed?” He was only half kidding.

Shane groaned. “No, Ryan! What I’m asking, is: if I told you a secret, would you tell my mother?!” 

It’d be much easier to answer if Ryan knew what that secret _was._ “I want to say no, but I don’t know what you’d be pulling me into.”

Shane wasn’t giving him anything more, just waiting a response. Ryan sighed. At this point, he knew Shane wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, so hopefully he understood how this could impact his job security. “Fine. Tell me.”

Shane looked Ryan dead in the eyes, took a deep breath. “I’m into men.”

“Come again?” It wasn’t a shock, but Ryan lived in a world where people didn’t just _admit_ these things.

“Exclusively.”

“But… Princess Clarissa is a lady,” Ryan said dumbly.

Shane raised an eyebrow. “Excellent observation, Sir Ryan.” 

“Does your… family know? Does her family?”

“My parents know I’m into guys. But apparently it’s just a phase, and it’s more important that I settle down with a nice…” Shane pinched the bridge of his nose. “Woman. A princess, more specifically. To secure an alliance and all that.”

Ryan’s heart ached with sympathy. He’d expected a similar response from his parents, which is why he’d never told them. “I’m sorry.”

Shane waved his “sorry” away. “No, no, you see! It’s all gonna be fine. We have an arrangement! Clara and I. We’ll go through with the marriage for the sake of the kingdoms, and then have our own…” He trailed off suggestively.

“What could go wrong?” Ryan said with a weak smile.

“Nothing, it’s a perfect solution.” 

“Uh, well, as the person who’s supposed to be looking out for you, it might not be _perfect_... But, um, thanks for telling me,” he finished sincerely.

Shane looked at Ryan, somewhat anxiously. “So, you won’t tell my mum?”

“No, I won’t.”

Shane looked beyond relieved. “So, are you good with the whole… me being gay thing?”

Ryan was surprised he felt the need to ask. “Of course. I see nothing wrong with it. If only the rest of society felt that way… You could marry a Prince,” he added with a small smile.

Shane’s face fell for a moment. Then he jumped to his feet and grabbed the breadcrumbs, taking a few steps towards the water.

“Wait, Shane!” Ryan rushed to catch up. “I mean it. This doesn’t change anything between us.”

Shane smiled thinly at him. “Thank you, Ryan.”

Ryan still felt desperate to reassure him. “Listen, if I were to tell _you_ something, would you promise not to tell anyone... including my mother?” He laughed lightly, despite the twisting feeling in his gut.

Now Shane looked interested. “Of course, Ry,” he said softly. 

“I, uh…” He didn’t even know how to phrase this. Ryan had never come out to anyone. His childhood best friend, Ella, was the only person in the world who knew. She’d only found out after catching him kissing another boy in the fields as a young teenager. He'd been touched by her understanding, her acceptance... That wasn’t common.

Shane was watching him sympathetically. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not ready.”

“I know.” Ryan said gratefully, before taking a breath. “I’m interested in women... but I’m interested in men, too.”

Shane’s face broke into an ecstatic grin. “Top or bottom?”

 _Out of all the reactions he’d anticipated, that was not it._ Ryan sputtered incoherently. “You… How… I don’t know, why would you even ask me that?!”

Shane laughed. “Just curious, is all.”

Ryan sighed and turned on his heel, starting towards the horses. But Shane caught his wrist, dragging him back down the slope to face him. For once, they were at the same height.

“What do you want, Shane?!”

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Shane said softly, his breath tickling Ryan’s nose. His grip felt like it was burning Ryan’s wrist. “In all sincerity, thank you for telling me.” 

Ryan’s expression softened. He might be a dick, but he meant well. “Yeah, sure,” he said gruffly. “Listen, I wasn’t raised like you were. If anyone ever found out, there’d be serious consequences, so I never got to…” He trailed off, biting his tongue. “Can you be sensitive about it?”

Shane’s eyes lit up. “So you’re a virgin?!” 

Ryan glared, which all but answered his question. That was _personal._

Shane immediately covered his mouth. “Uh, sorry, being sensitive starting now...”

As much as Ryan wanted to be angry, he couldn’t help cracking a smile and shaking his head. “You’re insufferable.”

* * *

They didn’t speak about it anymore on the way back to the palace. Ryan had suffered quite enough of Shane Madej, so he’d meant to leave for dinner once they’d returned to his bedchambers. That was before he noticed the vase. Or more specifically, the empty spot on the mantle where the vase used to be. 

He pointed it out. “What happened to the fancy vase that used to be up there?”

Shane followed his finger, looking up at the mantle. “What vase?”

“It was blue, it had gold engraved flowers all over it. About ye high,” Ryan held his hands out in a vague approximation. “Where is it?”

He shrugged dismissively. “I dunno.”

“You don’t?!” Ryan exclaimed. “Oh no, the thief… They must have gotten in here!”

“No, they’re probably just cleaning it, Ry. No need to jump to conclusions.”

“Do servants normally just take things for cleaning?!” Ryan was already pacing. 

Shane sighed. “If it’s _really_ dirty, maybe they do!”

Ryan shook his head. “That thing was spotless. It looked expensive… Oh no, the thief must have been _so close_... they could have killed you! How could I have missed them?!”

“Oh, for god’s sake, Ryan! Leave it! I broke the damn thing, okay?”

Ryan stopped pacing. “You what?”

“Another thing to hide from _mother dearest?”_ Shane tried.

Ryan groaned. “Apparently. How did you even break it? Did you fling your sword at it?!”

“I have long limbs, Ryan. I can’t keep track of them all the time.” Shane waved his arms about, helpfully demonstrating. 

Ryan bit back a laugh. “You’re an idiot. Fine, if you’re not in mortal peril, I’m going down for dinner.”

“See you later,” Shane waved, turning to the window. He paused. “Thanks for today.”

Ryan’s annoyance faded. He smiled. “You too.”

* * *

On the way back from the dining hall later that night, Ryan was stopped by the guard he’d first met at the gate. He’d never gotten his name.

“The King demands you in the throne room. Now.”

The stern tone was alarming. “About what?!”

The guard ignored him, walking briskly and expecting Ryan to follow. Heart racing, Ryan searched his brain for any reason the _King_ would want an audience with him. He hadn’t even officially met the royal. Had he done something wrong? Had Shane’s parents found out about his “arrangement” already? Ryan only had another minute to decide whether he was going to come clean or play dumb during the inevitable confrontation.

Ryan hadn’t seen the throne room since his first day at the castle. It was just as large and intimidating as he remembered, but this time there were four thrones instead of one.

King Cedric looked stern and unempathetic. Queen Diana avoided eye contact. Princess Catherine’s expression was carefully impassive. She kept glancing over at her brother, who looked totally confused.

As he and the guard approached the thrones, Ryan looked to Shane, trying to silently ask _what the hell is going on?!_ Shane subtly shook his head; he didn’t know, either. The realisation filled Ryan with dread.

The guard stopped Ryan abruptly. He was so overwhelmed, he missed the two guards coming up behind him. Two sets of hands shoved his shoulders down, forcing him onto his knees. In a panic, Ryan looked up at Shane, who had already leapt off his seat. He ran down the steps, yelling, “What are you doing?! Get your hands off him!” 

Shane shoved the guards back, at the same time as his father declared:

“Sir Ryan of Tyneham, you’re under arrest.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative title to this fic: "Hot People Banging in the Past"

_I’m under arrest?!_

The guards had backed off at Shane’s demand, but Ryan remained on his knees, too terrified to even move.

Shane turned around to face his family. “What is the meaning of all this?!”

“Alexander, calm down! This is highly inappropriate-” Queen Diana tried, but Shane wasn’t having it. He stood defiantly in front of Ryan, shielding him from the harsh judgement of the royals. 

“Ryan’s done nothing wrong! This is an outrage!”

“Restrain the manservant,” King Cedric ordered again. The guards stepped forward, one holding a piece of rope. 

“Don’t you dare,” Shane hissed at the men, looking downright murderous. His right hand moved towards the hilt of his sword. The guards froze, no doubt agonizing over the conflicting orders.

“Shane, don’t be an idiot!” Catherine admonished, standing up from her throne as well.

“This is ridiculous,” the Queen lamented. “Alexander, sit down. How about we discuss this privately, as a _family?”_ With a nod, she sent everyone else out of the room.

“Except you two.” King Cedric addressed the guards behind Ryan. “Stay.”

“He’s not going to run!” Shane protested. “There’s no need for this.” 

Lance stepped forward from beside Catherine’s throne. “If I may speak, Your Highnesses, I’d be happy to restrain the manservant.” Having his closest friend at the palace refer to him this way stung, but Ryan knew exactly why Lance was doing it.

“Thank you, Lance,” Queen Diana answered, as her way of giving permission. Both Shane and Ryan relaxed somewhat. 

“Sorry, Ry,” he whispered, leaning behind him and carefully holding Ryan’s wrists behind his back. He tied the coarse rope- not too tightly- and squeezed Ryan’s hand gently before straightening up, holding him down by his shoulder. Lance’s big, warm hand felt grounding and comforting instead of a restraint. Shane still looked intensely displeased with the concept. 

“Alexander, _sit down,”_ his mother tried one last time.

“No,” Shane growled. His choice to remain standing where he was clearly demonstrated whose side he was on. In Ryan’s confusion and panic, he chose to cling onto that. “What the fuck is this about, mother?” Shane demanded.

“Watch your language!” the Queen admonished her son. Her irritated expression faded, and she nodded to her husband. “Explain.”

King Cedric sighed. “This brings me no joy. We’ve received an anonymous tip: Sir Ryan is the one who’s been stealing from the palace.” 

_What?!_ A pit settled in Ryan’s stomach.

Shane balked at his father’s words. “Impossible.”

His father ignored him. “Sir Lancelot, perhaps you could take the manservant to the dungeons until we’ve resolved this matter.”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Shane shouted, making everyone in the room jump. “No, he stays with me! I know he didn’t do this, and even if he did, he’s _my_ manservant, under my supervision. I’ll take full responsibility for any consequences, not him.”

His family exchanged surprised glances. “Very well, then…” Diana answered.

The King was unmoved. “Think about it, Alexander. Much of what’s gone missing has come from _your_ bedchambers. Who would have easy access?” 

“Any of the servants!” Shane sputtered. 

“What about my mother’s vase?” Queen Diana interjected. “That went missing just yesterday.”

“That wasn’t him!” Shane paused, glancing sideways at Ryan. “I _broke_ it, okay? I knocked it off the mantle, it smashed everywhere and I covered it up. I didn’t want you to be angry with me.”

“Alexander!”

“I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t realise it would lead to this.” Shane gestured miserably at Ryan, still trembling on his knees. 

“Okay…” The King looked suspiciously between Shane and Ryan. “But many other things have been stolen… Silverware, ornaments, rings…” He ticked them off on his fingers.

“And the shield,” Diana interjected.

“That was probably all me,” Shane protested. “I’m forgetful, Mother! I lose stuff all the time; you’re only noticing now because they’re expensive.” 

“This is a great deal of ‘stuff’ to lose, Alexander. And Sir Ryan-” Cedric pointed at him, not looking in his eyes. “-is in the ideal position to exploit our family. You’re too close to him.”

Shane pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let me tell you something, father. On Ryan’s first day here, I offered to take him to the market and buy him whatever he wanted, covering all the expense.”

Queen Diana gasped. “You shouldn’t have-”

“He said no!” Shane snapped. “That’s my point. All Ryan had was this tiny bag of belongings, and he said it was more than enough. Does that sound like the type of man who would steal?”

“Sir Ryan is already paid quite handsomely,” Princess Catherine added. “And he’s only been working here for a month. The thievery has been going on much longer than that.”

The King turned to his daughter. “So you don’t think Sir Ryan had anything to do with it?”

Catherine looked directly at Ryan for a moment, her green eyes boring into his. “No,” she said simply. “I don’t know Sir Ryan well, but I haven’t seen anything that indicates he’s anything but a loyal employee and an honourable man.”

“That’s why I hired him in the first place, Cedric,” Queen Diana pointed out. “His reputation.”

The King turned his gaze to Ryan, tapping his chin thoughtfully. 

“Your Highnesses,” Lance’s deep voice boomed behind him. “May I offer a humble servant’s perspective?”

“Of course,” the Queen answered. “Your perspective is appreciated.”

Lance took a breath, considering his words. “As a fellow manservant, I know the position is highly sought after. Other castle staff can be quite… envious. Especially when it’s clear how much the Prince favours Sir Ryan.”

Shane didn’t deny it.

“Jealousy can lead to some ugly behaviour…” Lance said carefully. “I experienced this myself when I first began serving Princess Catherine. Several servants were very vocal about feeling they deserved the position more than I. Unfortunately, it seems not much has changed. Many would be happy to see Sir Ryan go, in hopes of taking his place...”

Princess Catherine nodded. “I remember that. People can be quite petty, especially when they view someone as an outsider.” 

“I see,” the King responded slowly, before looking directly at Ryan. “It seems that in the short time you’ve been here, Sir Ryan, you’ve managed to win over the opinions of my family. Their opinions are very valuable to me.”

“He’s clearly been a victim of baseless accusations,” Queen Diana confirmed. Shane, Catherine, and Lance nodded vigorously.

“That certainly seems to be the case,” King Cedric said finally. “Sir Lancelot, you may release him. Sir Ryan, we sincerely apologise for the inconvenience.”

Lance quickly untied the rope from around Ryan’s wrists, and helped him to his feet. He gripped Ryan’s hand in his for a beat, giving him a small, reassuring smile.

Ryan nodded and tried to smile back. His throat was so dry, he didn’t think he was capable of speaking. Thankfully, no one expected him to. 

Diana stood gracefully from her throne, and slowly walked down the steps towards Ryan. “Could I have a moment, Sir Ryan?” Shane started to protest, but Diana’s pointed stare silenced him. _“Alone.”_

Ryan nodded weakly. “Of course, your Highness.” He glanced over at Shane, who was being led reluctantly out of the throne room by his sister. He felt horribly exposed and vulnerable without him. 

“I’ll wait for you outside, Ry,” Shane said soothingly as he passed by. Ryan watched the door swing shut behind them with a _thud_. He turned back to the Queen, trepidation rippling through his body.

“First and foremost, Sir Ryan,” she began, her voice ringing out clear and firm. “I want to apologise. My husband… is impulsive. When Cedric heard the accusations, he was horrified that we could have let someone so dangerous get so close to our family. Our son.”

Ryan nodded slowly. It was understandable. 

She continued, seemingly aware of Ryan’s current inability to express any signs of sentient thought. 

“But that doesn’t excuse this. I hope you are happy to continue with your position. And if you aren’t, I would regret not telling you of the positive impact you have had on our Alexander. He hasn’t been this happy in a long time. More than that, _this_ was the first time he’s taken real responsibility...” 

“Oh...” Ryan wasn’t sure how to respond. “I’m very pleased to hear that, Your Highness. I’d like to stay.” 

Diana’s expression softened. “Thank you, Sir Ryan. You are free to leave.”

* * *

Ryan walked out the throne room with dignity, despite wanting to run to the man who’d defended him so adamantly.


	19. Chapter 19

Ryan walked out of the throne room in a daze. Shane was standing outside the door anxiously, wringing his hands. His face flooded with relief when he looked up.

“Ryan! I’m so sorry, are you alright?!” He was hugging him before he could answer. “I’m so, so sorry, Ry.”

“I’m okay,” Ryan mumbled, awkwardly patting Shane’s back. He was intensely aware of the guards still standing outside the throne room, watching his every move. As grateful as he was for the comfort, he wished it wasn’t _here._

Shane pulled back, keeping his hands on Ryan’s shoulders. “What did my mother say?!”

All eyes were certainly on them now. 

“She just said… I was doing a good job.” Ryan sounded as confused as he felt. “Can we talk somewhere else, please?” he whispered.

Shane’s eyes widened as he finally realised they weren’t alone. The guards immediately averted their eyes and stepped back to give them space. “Of course.” Without appearing to think about it, Shane took Ryan’s hand and began walking.

Ryan stiffened, but didn’t feel he could let go. His thoughts went back to Catherine’s scolding, when she pointed out that Ryan couldn’t really reject his employer.

Shane noticed. “Oh, uh, sorry.” He released his hand, but seemed unwilling to part with Ryan completely. He settled for throwing his arm around the shorter man’s shoulder as they hurried off to the royal bedchambers. 

It still looked pretty suggestive, but Ryan had to admit the warm weight was reassuring.

* * *

As soon as they were back in the royal bedchambers, Shane led Ryan to the closest chair. “Here, sit down. Just relax, I’ll take care of everything. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“I was actually just coming back from dinner before this,” Ryan tried, but Shane wasn’t having it.

“I’ll go get a servant!” The Prince somewhat frantically rushed outside.

Once he finally got a minute alone, Ryan started breathing deeply, letting his head fall into his hands. So much had just happened; it was dizzying. 

Shane burst back into the room, his worried gaze landing on his manservant. “Oh no, you look pale…”

“I’m fine, really…”

“No, no, no…” Shane was now pacing back and forth, just as Ryan had when he’d realised the vase was missing a few hours ago. “You’re not fine; none of this is fine…”

Shane’s anxiety was contagious. “Is this… not the end of it?” Ryan croaked out. “Do they still think I’m guilty?”

Shane turned abruptly. “No! No, I’m sorry. You’re safe, Ryan, I _promise!”_

“Then why are you…” Ryan gestured at Shane’s rapid pacing.

Shane stopped and took a breath. “No. Everything’s fine. I’m sorry about my behaviour, that was just, uh, really stressful.”

Ryan sighed. “Tell me about it.” Shane was clearly the type to ramble when he was distressed. Ryan, on the other hand, was still trying to process.

“Ryan…” Shane came up in front of his chair and knelt, taking one of Ryan’s hands in his and placing the other on Ryan’s knee. “I am so, so, so sorry,” he said earnestly. “Can you forgive me?”

“Of course... What are you even apologising for, anyways? I should be thanking you.” And Ryan will, when his brain catches up to the present moment.

Shane bit his lip and stood up. “I don’t know. Nothing. Everything. I promised you I was going to protect you.”

“And you _did,”_ Ryan pointed out. “I really can’t thank you enough…”

Shane shook his head, as if adamantly (and almost violently) defending a servant to the King and Queen of England was nothing. 

“Seriously, I’m having trouble finding the words…” 

“No, Ryan, please don’t worry about it.” Shane raked his hand through his hair. “God, I’m stressing you out more, aren’t it?”

Thankfully, a careful knock at the door spared Ryan from answering that question. It was Fiona, clutching a silver pitcher.

“Um, water for Sir Ryan…”

“Oh, right,” Shane responded, stepping aside to let her access the table. “Thank you, Fiona.”

“You’re very welcome, Your Highness.” Fiona looked nervously between the two. Somehow, she must have already heard about what had just happened. “May I have permission to ask Sir Ryan if he’s okay?”

“Of course.” Shane awkwardly stepped back as Fiona ran up to Ryan and gave him an aggressive hug. Ryan chuckled in spite of himself.

“I was so worried,” she explained. “I swear, I had no idea about the accusation. People can get so petty around here. I told everyone that I _know_ you had nothing to do with it.”

So many people had defended Ryan in one day, it was hard to believe. “Thank you, Fiona. I’m fine now, honestly. We sorted it all out.”

The girl sighed in relief. “Thank god.” She stepped back, looking back at Shane. “I’m sure you’re exhausted, I’ll let you rest. I’m glad you’re okay, Ryan.”

“Thank you. Really.”

After the maid had left, Shane came to sit down glumly on the chair beside him. “You’re not pale anymore,” he pointed out. “She was able to comfort you way more than I could in just one minute… I’m no good at this stuff.”

Ryan wouldn’t let his saviour talk so disparagingly about himself. “Shane! Don’t talk like that. You just saved my life, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Shane smiled sadly, but didn’t respond.

“Shane!” Ryan said again. “No. Get up.”

Shane obeyed, looking ready to be scolded.

“The only reason I didn’t really hug you back in the corridor was because everyone was watching, after that I just needed a damn minute to process… Shane, that was the nicest, no nice isn’t even the word. That was the most honourable thing anyone’s ever done for me, putting your credibility on the line like that…”

Shane shrugged, looking down at the floor.

“Oh, you fucking idiot,” Ryan said with absolutely no malice. “Come here.” 

He finally pulled Shane into a proper hug, wrapping his arms around him. Shane tensed for a fraction of a second when Ryan’s arms snaked around his neck. But then he felt Shane relax into him, sinking his head into the crook of Ryan’s neck and breathing deeply. Ryan rested his chin on Shane’s shoulder and closed his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” was all Shane said when the embrace was over, a quiet whisper.

Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose. “If you were really sorry, you’d stop apologising.”

“Okay.” The crown Prince of England shouldn’t look so much like a kicked puppy.

Ryan frowned. “Shane… are _you_ okay?”

“Me? Oh, yeah, of course. Just rattled, is all.” Shane forced a smile.

Ryan sighed and wrapped his arms around himself, feeling the lack of warmth after being in Shane’s embrace for so long. “Me too…”

“Fiona was right, you must be exhausted,” Shane said reluctantly. He was clearly offering an excuse to leave.

“I am, but I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight,” Ryan admitted. His life had just flashed before his eyes, after all.

“Me neither.”

Something about Shane’s soft tone made Ryan bold. He took a step closer. “Stay up with me?”

If Shane was surprised, he didn’t show it. “Oh... sure. Of course. What would you like to do?”

Ryan yawne, eyeing the most comfortable bed he’d ever slept on. “I dunno. Talk. Not talk. It doesn’t matter.”

“Alright.” Shane followed Ryan’s gaze. “We can sit on my bed, if you want…” He blushed. “I swear I won’t, uh-”

“No, I know.” Ryan gave him a small smile. “I’d be an idiot if I didn’t trust you by now.” Ryan went to sit on the edge of the mattress, wincing when his chainmail scraped at the silk fabric. He looked up at Shane, worried he’d pulled a thread or something.

“Wanna just borrow some of my clothes? I have loads to spare,” Shane offered.

Ryan really couldn’t be bothered to argue. And that’s how he found himself, staring grumpily at himself in the looking glass, at what appeared to be a little boy swamped in his father’s pyjamas. The sleeves on the tunic hung down over his hands, and the trousers, covering his feet, kept slipping off his waist. He groaned, ready for the tirade of mocking remarks, and stepped out of the bathroom. 

“Wow…” Shane smiled innocently at him from the bed, clearly biting back a laugh.

“Don’t.” Ryan held up a finger (or tried to, the sleeve dangled over his hand and the gesture seemed to have the opposite effect.)

“They’re a little...” Shane rolled off the bed with a quiet snort of laughter, and pulled at Ryan’s tunic. “You could roll up the sleeves?”

Ryan began fiddling with the cuffs, but apparently too slowly. The prince huffed a sigh and grabbed at his wrists, carefully folding the sleeves up over his hands. 

“Thanks, Shane,” Ryan laughed and started towards the bed, looking forward to sitting down. But Shane was still gripping his wrist, looking down at them intently. “What is it?”

“There are _marks,”_ Shane whispered, pointing at angry, red rope-burn lines on Ryan’s arm. “You’re hurt.”

Ryan tried not to laugh at the tender look in Shane’s eyes. Rope burn was like a paper-cut compared to injuries he’d suffered in the military. It must’ve just been from when Lance had to tighten the ropes up. It was nothing. But something about the concern in the Prince’s voice stopped him. “It’s fine, I’m fine, Shane! I promise.”

Shane let go of his wrist, looking downcast. He seemed to struggle to look Ryan in the eyes. “Let me clean them, at least. Let me help, Ry, please.”

Ryan nodded.

A few minutes later, the boys sat cross-legged on the generously-sized bed, Ryan’s arm outstretched in Shane’s lap. Ryan mindlessly traced the pattern of gold thread on the scarlet sheets with his other hand, as Shane gently dabbed at the marks with a warm cloth.

“I swear, I’m going to find out who did this,” Shane growled.

Ryan hadn’t actually thought too much about that. “I bet Fiona can find out for us. That girl knows all the gossip around here.”

Shane nodded, and pulled Ryan’s other hand into his lap so he could clean the now-fading rope-burns. “Good idea. I’ll _pay_ her to find out.”

Something had been bothering Ryan. “Shane… how are you so sure it wasn’t me?”

Shane gave him a strange look. “I know it wasn’t you, Ryan. I never doubted that.”

“But how do you _know?”_

Shane raised an eyebrow. “What, are you saying you did it?”

“No, no,” Ryan rushed out. “It’s just, y’know, you haven’t known me that long. It worries me that you trust people so easily, given your position…” Guess his manservant will have to be suspicious for him.

Shane shook his head and smiled softly. “I don’t trust people too easily, Ryan, I’m just saying I trust _you.”_

“Oh…” Ryan responded before blurting, “When the guard called me, I thought this was about your, uh, arrangement. I didn’t know what to do, but in the end I decided I was going to play dumb, just so you know.” 

Shane’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit, Ryan, I didn’t even think of that. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“No, I was just saying that so you know you can trust me,” Ryan clarified.

“I do,” Shane said earnestly. “I’m the problem here. I need to stop bringing you into my messes.”

Ryan shrugged. “It’s why I’m here, right?”

Shane grimaced. “Well, either way, I meant what I said back there. I’ll take full responsibility for whatever happens going forward. You don’t have to worry.”

Ryan smiled. “I’m not, for once.”

* * *

The boys stayed up for hours, talking about things that mattered and things that didn’t. Their conversation ranged from honest and heartfelt to increasingly silly as sleep deprivation took its toll. 

Ryan normally wasn’t much of a talker, but he found Shane _wanted_ to listen. The normally chatty Prince was content to watch him with a small smile as Ryan listed out the first ten things he’d decree if _he_ got to be king. Was it ten? Maybe it was eleven.

“And lastly, I’d…” Ryan frowned, thinking it over. He’d already put an end to wars, eradicated poverty, hunger, and homelessness, put together a task force to cure all disease, and made animal cruelty punishable by death, among other things...

Shane yawned and sat up against the headboard with a grin. “Careful, Sir Ryan. This is your last one.”

“You’re writing these down, right?” Ryan teased.

“Don’t worry, I’ll remember them all when I’m King. They’re all right up here.” Shane winked and tapped his head.

“Good thing there’s lots of space.”

He ducked as Shane threw a pillow at him.

Ryan’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Oh, I know! I’ll make heterosexuality illegal!”

“You… what?!” Shane burst out laughing. “Ryan, no! You can’t!”

“That’s King Ryan to you! And I’ll do whatever I want!” King Ryan declared. “I think it’s only fair. Homosexuality is banned in my village. I wanna see how _they_ feel!”

Shane stopped laughing, looking thoughtful. “You might have a point.”

“Uh, I do?”

“Not about banning heterosexuality, of course. You probably know this, but being gay isn’t illegal under my father’s laws. If it was, I’d be disowned years ago. But that’s not enough.” Shane straightened up. “When I’m King, I’ll ban the banning of homosexuality. It’s going to be legal everywhere in the kingdom.”

Ryan grinned. “You promise?”

“Promise.”

The boys laid on their backs, staring at the ceiling in comfortable silence. Ryan felt his eyelids getting heavy. But he had one more thing to say. He sat up abruptly. “And _twelfth-mphm!”_ His twelfth decree was muffled by Shane covering his mouth with his hand and pulling him back down.

“That’s enough, King Ryan!” Ryan licked his hand, causing Shane to immediately jerk his hand away with an, “Ew!”

“You deserved that, manservant,” Ryan mumbled as he snuggled into the pillows.

“So I’m the manservant now?”

“Yup,” Ryan said contentedly. “Clean my boots or something.” And with that, he was fast asleep.

* * *

Ryan woke up some time later with a strange feeling. He’d probably had a nightmare, but it was lost to him the moment he opened his eyes. He couldn’t recall a single detail, besides the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He rolled over to see Shane was still awake, laying on his back and gazing at the ceiling. Ryan could make out the sharp point of his nose and his soft, fluffy hair.  
Ryan bit his lip. What he really wanted right now, more than anything, was _comfort._ But if he did this again, there’d be no going back.

 _He’s not really engaged,_ his brain helpfully supplied. _It’s just an arrangement._ It was undoubtedly a terrible decision, but that sleepy logic was enough for him.

Ryan inched closer, unsure of how to initiate physical contact. This had been easier when he was half-asleep. Did Shane even want him like that? He hadn’t acknowledged Ryan’s presence. He inched closer. Shane’s large hands were clasped over his stomach, rising and falling. He was _right there_ and yet Ryan didn’t know how to touch. He inched closer. Maybe the flirting was all just a big joke, that only Shane was in on…

Shane suddenly sprang into action. Ryan would’ve jumped if he hadn’t been grabbed and pulled so his back was against the other man’s chest. He yelped in surprise. Shane chuckled in his ear. “Did you think I was asleep?”

“No,” Ryan responded petulantly. 

“Sorry for scaring you,” Shane whispered. His warm breath tickled the back of Ryan’s neck, causing him to shiver involuntarily. 

Shane froze and released him. “Sorry.” He sounded actually apologetic this time. “Was that not okay?”

In response, Ryan rolled over and pulled Shane’s back to _his_ chest. Shane chuckled and wrapped his arm around Ryan’s.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Shane murmured, a smile in his sleepy voice. 

“We do,” Ryan agreed quietly. He couldn’t help but snuggle just a little closer into his protector.

* * *

_All my fault, all my fault, all my fault…_

Shane gasped and sat up, tears pricking at his eyes and quiet sobs heaving in his chest. He felt the warm weight of Ryan’s arm slung across his waist and relaxed a little. _Ryan was here, he was safe. He wasn’t in danger anymore. The dream wasn’t real. Ryan was fine._ Shane breathed deeply, trying to match his breaths to the rise and fall of Ryan’s chest. When his shuddering gasps slowed, he lay back in bed, but didn’t close his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he could fall back asleep after that. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

But after a few moments, the soft sighs from Ryan quickened. Shane froze. _Damn it. You’ve woken him up. As if you haven’t done enough already._

“You okay?” Ryan mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. He shifted his weight, nuzzling his head into Shane’s side and clutching his arm tighter around him. But sleep didn’t release him for long; within seconds Ryan was snoring softly again, his nose pressed to Shane’s ribs. The warmth was comforting, the weight of Ryan grounding him, the feeling of Ryan’s heartbeat on his skin. Soon, Shane drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta love a royal sleepover.


	20. Chapter 20

_Click, click, click_

Katie’s heels echoed on the stone walls as she stormed along the corridor, beelining towards her little brother’s door. Ignoring the desperately interested face of the maid lurking outside, Katie kicked at his door and watched with satisfaction as it crashed open and rebounded off the concrete. Let _that_ wake him up. He didn’t deserve the sweet awakening Benson or Mother would have given him- probably a tickle on the nose with a feather and a damn cup of tea. 

“SHANE, GET YOUR ARSE UP!” Katie strode in, slamming the door shut behind her, and stood with her hands on her hips in front of her idiot brother’s bed. 

“Ugh, what do you want? Can’t it wait?” Shane grumbled from behind the curtains. He had clearly just woken up. It was nearly lunch time. What a dick.

Katie seethed, ripping open the curtain to see a sleepy Shane and a very horrified manservant, who looked as trapped as a fox caught in a snare. She was so angry at her brother, she didn’t bother addressing Sir Ryan.

“YOU’RE IN BED WITH YOUR FUCKING _MANSERVANT?!”_

And with that, Sir Ryan squeaked a quick, “Sorry!” and fled from the room, tail between his legs. Shane rolled his eyes, watching Sir Ryan scurry out, and sat up. At least he had clothes on.

“We didn’t do anything.”

Katie put her hands on her hips. “Oh, right, so it was just a royal slumber party?”

Shane grinned as he smoothed out his hair. “You could say that.” 

“You think everything is a big joke, don’t you?” Katie tried to refocus her anger to the original reason she was here. “Do you even remember what you missed this morning?!”

Shane’s grin faded. “Oh, that meeting… that was today? Can we reschedule?” 

“The kingdom’s security is not a fucking joke, Shane! We’ve had to delay all of our preparation, the amount of scheduling that goes into this is a huge endeavour! And you’ve fucked it all up.”

Shane sighed. “No, I don’t think it’s a joke. I’m sure you handled it, didn’t you? You’re better at this stuff, anyways.”

“I’m _well_ aware.” But that didn’t matter. Who cared if she had more logical thoughts in a minute than her brother did in a day? What mattered was what was between his legs, not between his ears.

“Okay…” Shane started in a disgustingly soothing voice. Ah, yes. This was the point in their arguments when he'd think of a way to appease her. “Well, I think it’s bullshit that I need to be there, anyways. Just because I’m a man? Come on, Katie, we both know you’re well suited for this, everyone else should know as well.”

“They should, but they won’t. You know that. To all those idiots I’m meant to be seen and not heard. Definitely not listened to for military advice.”

“We should change that, don’t you think?” And just like that. Sexism was finished. _Thanks, Shane!_

“That’s a far more long-term solution, Shane,” Katie spat bitterly. “In the meantime, you should just start waking up in the fucking mornings, okay? And preferably not locked in embrace with your bloody manservant.”

“You’re right.” Shane smiled confidently, like he always did, as if solutions were just that easy. “And you’ve gotta admit, he’s pretty cute...”

Now, _that_ was the wrong thing to say. 

“Shane, have you forgotten everything we talked about?!” Katie rubbed her temples, closing her eyes. She was very much struggling to deal with him today.

“Maybe…?” he tried to joke.

“I can’t believe you. You always do this, every time. You get too deep, too fast!”

Shane winked. 

“Shut up, Shane!” Katie warned, holding up a finger to silence him before any more stupid words fell out of his stupid mouth. “How many times have you done this? The flings, the hookups- they don’t mean anything, you lose yourself in them, and then you’re heartbroken every time they leave.”

Shane crossed his arms. “But he’s _different!”_

Katie mirrored his pose, crossing her arms. “You say that every single time.”

“But I _mean_ it this time!” Could the future King of England sound any more childish?”

“For god’s sake, Shane! Where do you think this is gonna go?” Katie ticked off the reasons on her fingers: “He’s your servant, for starters. He’s a _man_ ; you know what our parents think. And, most importantly... you’re engaged?”

Shane scratched his head. “About that…”

“What have you done?” Katie asked in a warning voice. If he’d fucked this up, he was _dead._ For sure. He wouldn’t even manage to get the whole sentence out before Mother cuts his head off.

“Nothing!” Shane said defensively. “It’s just that Clara and I have come to an… arrangement. It works for everyone, I swear. But don’t tell mum and dad.” 

“An arrangement? What the hell does that mean?” 

“You know I’m only into men, Katie,” Shane said quietly. “I can’t change that. Trust me, I wish I could.” The Prince acted unashamed of his sexuality, but Katie knew he was overcompensating. She related all too well.

“You shouldn’t have to change,” Katie said softly. “You _know_ I understand. But there’s more at stake here than a fling.”

“I know, I know! I’m sick of everyone telling me that. Look, Clara’s not into me, either. She’s not into men at all, actually.” Shane grew serious, for once. His eyes bored into Katie’s intently. “I’m really trusting you here. I know there’s rumours about me, but Clara cares about her reputation much more than I do.” 

“As she should.”

Shane shrugged.

“So it’s _that_ kind of arrangement,” Katie mused.

“We’re gonna get married!” Shane protested. “Isn’t that all everyone wants? There’s no legal requirement to love each other or _other_ things…” He wrinkled his nose at the thought.

That was actually kind of mature of him. Of both of them, actually. So… Clara’s into women, is she? Interesting. The sight of her brother’s forlorn expression snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Shane…” Katie climbed up onto the bed, tucking her legs underneath her and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Her brother was quiet, the way he always became before tears. It was just like when they were kids. He’d always run into her chambers after nightmares, find comfort in her just being there. She’d wrap him up under the covers and make sure he slept through the night. 

“I love him, Katie…” Shane said softly. They both pretended he wasn’t crying. “I know he doesn’t love me, but maybe he could…? Eventually?” Katie sighed. Amazing that someone who’d had his heart broken so many times was still full of hope.

Katie stroked his hair softly. “We’ve been here before, Shane,” she reminded him gently. Too many times. Shane easily fell, and often bounced back just as easily. It just took a little heartbreak. Or another distraction. “Love comes and goes…”

Shane shook his head. “Not this time.”

“He’s only been here a month!”

Shane suddenly pulled away. “God damn it, Katie! I know what you’re thinking: I’m just a stupid kid and I’ll get over it. I know how I feel!” 

Katie bit her tongue. Logic was not what he needed to hear right now. Clearly. She tried a different tactic. “What you’re doing for the kingdom is admirable. You’re putting everything aside for the people- you love _them_ , don’t you?”

“Don’t say it like that. It’s not like I’ve ever had a choice.” Shane stood up from the bed. “You know what, maybe I _am_ selfish! Maybe I shouldn’t be King at all.” 

“Snap out of it, Shane! Stop acting like a child. We can’t change anything, so you have to deal with it,” Katie stood up to face him. “This is your duty, and you can’t sidle out of it by oversleeping like a fucking teenager.”

Shane narrowed his eyes. “You’re jealous of me.” It wasn’t a question. “You think you work harder and you know more and you deserve to rule more than I do. And you know what? You’re right.” He paused. “When Mum and Dad die, and I become King, I’ll just make _you_ Queen.” He waved his hand dismissively. “There. Problems solved.”

“And what? You’ll just run off with Sir Ryan and get your happy ending? You’ll never have a care in the world again, right?” 

“Why do you have to say it like that?” Shane grouched. 

Unbelievable. “Grow up, _Alexander,”_ Katie spat. She brushed past him and left, leaving the door swinging open behind her. 

* * *

Katie, however, was not done yet. She still had quite a bit of raging left in her system, so she might as well pop by and see the lovely Sir Ryan. She knocked on the door three times. When she didn’t get an immediate answer, she shouted, “I know you’re in there!”

Sir Ryan hesitantly opened the door, his eyes wide as dinner plates. “So sorry, Your Highness. I, uh, didn’t hear you at first…” A total lie, if she’d ever heard one.

“I see,” Katie deadpanned. She let him squirm for a moment.

“Was there… anything I could help you with, my lady?” 

“Well, is there anything _you_ would like to tell me? Or, perhaps, explain?”

Sir Ryan gulped. “I apologise for what you saw this morning, um…” He looked both ways down the corridor. “Would you like to come in, Princess Catherine, so perhaps we could speak more privately?”

Katie narrowed her eyes. “There shouldn’t be anything private about your relationship with my brother.” But she stepped inside anyways.

Ryan awkwardly clasped his hands in front of his abdomen. “First, Your Highness-”

“Call me Katie,” she snapped. She was done with these formalities. “Let’s talk candidly, shall we?”

“Okay… Katie. Well, I wanted to thank you for defending my character yesterday. It means more than I can tell you. I’m… honoured that you’d place that much trust in me.”

“I did say you were a man of honour, didn’t I?” Katie turned to Ryan, tilting her head to the side. “I do hope you won’t prove me wrong.”

Ryan shook his head vehemently. She’d definitely gotten through to him, which was more than she could say for Shane. “I’ll be honest with you, I swear. I never meant for any of this to happen.” 

Katie nodded curtly. “Good. Get on with it then.” 

Ryan scratched his head, looking at the floor. “I suppose… I should ask you what you know, first.”

“I know about my brother’s attachment to you. And I know about his intentions with his _fiancé_.”

“Ah. Okay. I don’t…” Sir Ryan looked up with eyes brimming with guilt. “I don’t exactly know what I’m doing here, is all.”

“That much is clear,” Katie watched his expression intently. “I want you to consider the consequences.” 

“I’d never want to hurt Shane,” Sir Ryan said earnestly. “And I want you to know nothing has happened yet between us, no matter how it looked earlier. We were, uh, comforting each other,” he said lamely. 

“I’m sure,” she pursed her lips. _Comforting. Hm._ “But you know what this could look like for Shane?”

Ryan cringed. 

“Ryan, you know how important this alliance is. Tension between the kingdoms is growing and this is the best way forward. Have you considered what would happen if my brother’s marriage failed?”

The manservant’s silence spoke volumes. 

“My brother is an idiot, as I’m sure you know. But his heart is in the right place. He cares about you a lot. I know he acts like he doesn’t care about anything, but he does. Too much, most of the time. We need a strong leader who won’t fall apart due to a simple smile from just another heartbreaker.”

“I don’t think he’s just an idiot,” Ryan said quietly, looking down at his shoes. A far cry from Shane’s love confession earlier.

“That’s all you have to say?” Katie felt her anger rise again. “Forget the kingdom, do you care about my brother at all?”

“Of course I do!” Ryan took a deep breath. “I would die for him.”

Katie believed him, but she wasn’t impressed. “So what I’m gathering from this, Sir Ryan, is you’re willing to die for Shane, but not willing to keep your hands off him? I don’t want to know if you’ll do your job, I want to know if you _care_ about him.” 

Sir Ryan bit his lip. “I don’t know what you want from me…” 

“Some honesty."

The brave knight hugged himself tightly. “Yes, I care about him…” 

Katie shook her head. “Not what I’m asking and you know it. Do you have feelings for my brother? I have no problem with you being gay, but I do have a problem with you hurting Shane.”

He closed his eyes, apparently trying to shut Katie out. But it didn’t work like that.

“You do,” she finally snapped. “Even if you can’t say it. You should try being honest with yourself, Sir Ryan. It could save us all a world of hurt,” she added darkly. “And if you care about the kingdom at all- about the safety of our people- you should leave well alone.” 

With that, she was done. She’d said her piece.

* * *

Shane was _going_ to ask Ryan to go riding, but he’d rather not think about Sir Ryan of Tyneham right now. He decided to go alone. He could use a distraction. But not time to think, exactly. After all, there was nothing to think about.

Nothing Katie said was new or earth-shattering. It’s not his fault if she refused to see how this arrangement works _perfectly_. Why did his sister have to be so pessimistic? And if Shane could have it all, why the hell shouldn’t he take it?

* * *

The door swung shut behind her, leaving Ryan alone. Katie’s words rang out in the silence louder than before. In mere minutes, the Princess had ripped out what was left of his heart, inspected it, and dropped it at his feet. Ryan sank onto his bed with a sigh and rubbed at his face. Katie was right, after all. What else could he say? 

Ryan shuddered. He felt as if he’d just been doused with cold water, jolted awake by an icy weight on his shoulders. Reality drenched his head and washed down the rest of his body, soaking him to the bone. The ice strangled his heart, punched him in the gut, numbed him to the point where he couldn’t feel a damn thing under the belt... Ryan tensed and wrapped a blanket around himself, longing for warmth.

Randomly, he found himself thinking about the hot baths he’d run for Shane. He’d spend so long holding his hand under the surface, checking and rechecking the temperature to make sure it was just perfect… He hadn’t foreseen that when he finally pulled away from the water, his hand would be bright red. The tips of his fingers wrinkled and distorted. Shriveled. Unrecognisable. Was the heat any better?

With a grimace, he decided it wasn’t. Sir Ryan of Tyneham would rather be numb.


	21. Chapter 21

Despite his sister’s lecture yesterday, Shane was in a fairly good mood today. He’d actually gotten up on time for breakfast at once. Really, he should have been met with a round of applause. He ignored Katie’s judgemental looks. They’d make up eventually, like they always do.

On the way back up to his bedchambers, he stopped to grab Ryan. 

“Hey, Ry.” 

Ry looked… rough. His dark circles were more pronounced than usual, and his usual sun-kissed skin was pale. “Good morning, My Lord.”

Shane raised an eyebrow. “Why are you calling me that?”

“I just feel… it’s more appropriate.” Ryan looked down at his feet.

Then, it clicked. Shane groaned exasperatedly. “My sister spoke to you, didn’t she?”

No response.

“Oh, come on, Ryan! Can I come in? Let’s just talk about this.”

Ryan blocked the entryway. “I don’t think… Is that an order?”

“What? No! Of course not!” Shane’s hurt was clear in his tone. “Do you want to come to my bedchambers, then?”

His manservant who was suddenly actually acting like a manservant looked hesitant.

“This isn’t an order either,” Shane clarified, because for some reason he had to do that now. “I don’t _want_ to order you around! But I am asking you, as a friend, if you’d just sit down and talk with me.”

Ryan’s voice cracked. “I don’t think we _can_ be friends, Shane.” 

He closed the door.

Shane’s heart shattered.


	22. Chapter 22

Ryan hadn’t seen or spoken to Shane in a week. 

He had no idea what he was even doing here at the castle, what his purpose was. The weight upon him had only grown heavier since he ended his friendship with his best friend. Had it even been the right thing to do? A week prior, Catherine had him _convinced_ that the only way to not hurt Shane, was… to hurt him. Now rather than later. It was better for Shane, for him… for the kingdom…

So imagine his surprise when Princess Catherine desperately hunted him down a few days later. Ryan had been aimlessly wandering the halls, as if the thief would just jump out and show himself in the middle of the day.

“Sir Ryan! I’ve been looking for you!”

She looked so pale, so unsettled that Ryan reached for the hilt of his sword. 

“No, no! It’s not that. It’s not a security thing.” She motioned for Ryan to leave his sword in its sheath. “It’s _Shane.”_

Ryan’s heart stopped for a moment. “Is he okay?!”

She shook her head, hugging herself tightly. “No. What did you say to him last week?”

Ryan was _not_ about to be scolded for this, even if she was a Princess. “I ended our friendship. That’s what you wanted, right?!”

“I was wrong. I’m sorry.” 

Ryan blanched. He’d expected more pushback. Princess Catherine had not come off as the type of woman to change her mind easily. “What happened?”

“He’s locked himself in his room. He won’t come out for anyone,” Katie rubbed her eyes, her brow furrowed. “You need to talk to him, Ryan. He won’t listen to anyone else.”

Ryan’s heart sank. He wasn’t sure if he could face him after… after… But the pleading look in Katie’s eyes told him he _had_ to. 

* * *

“Don’t bother knocking,” Katie said, firmly. “He won’t answer. Just go right in.” 

And Ryan did just that.

“Benson!” Shane snapped from under his covers. The thick, dark curtains shrouding the bed muffled his voice. “I told you, I’m not hungry!” He sounded like a petulant child.

“It’s me…” Ryan said softly. He stepped forward.

Silence. 

“Shane, are you okay?” He came closer again.

Silence.

“Shane, I’m sorry!” Ryan cried. “Can’t you just talk to me?”

Finally, the Prince pulled back the curtain with a steely glare. “Oh, like I asked you to the other day?” The curtain fell back into place, a thick, red wall between them. Who knew velvet could feel so harsh?

“I’m sorry,” Ryan said again. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was wrong.”

Again, no answer. Ryan decided to be brave and peel back the curtain. Shane was laying on his stomach with his face stuffed into his pillow. Although Ryan’s heart ached with sympathy, he couldn’t help but notice what a childish reaction this was. Katie’s words rang in his ears.

“Shane, I know you don’t want to hear this, but you can’t…” There was no way to phrase this gently. “You can’t just fall apart when you don’t get what you want. Not as the future King of England.”

Shane lifted his head to glower. “Why thank you, Sir Ryan! Thank you so much for hurting me and then informing me I’m not allowed to feel hurt. You’re _great_ at apologies.”

The ‘Sir Ryan’ stung. “You were right,” he whispered. “Katie got to me.”

“I already knew that,” Shane grumbled.

Ryan paused. “Did you know she was the one to come get me? She was begging me to come talk to you. She said she was wrong.”

The reaction wasn’t quite as positive as he’d expected. “That’s great to hear. Please let me know the next time my dear sister’s mind changes, so I can know which version of Ryan I’ll be speaking to that day.”

Again, he had a point. “I did this because I didn’t want to hurt you… Katie didn’t want to see you get hurt, either. Obviously, we fucked that up.”

Finally, Shane sat up. “I didn’t hire you, you know. I didn’t ask for _anything_ from you! I don’t need a babysitter, I don’t need a guard, I don’t need a ‘role model’.” He looked Ryan up and down contemptuously. “And I certainly don’t need a _friend.”_

“Shane-” Ryan pleaded.

“Don’t worry, you’ll still get your pay!” He plastered a fake smile across his face, his tone dripping with bitterness. “We all know that’s what you’re here for. Look, Ryan, you’ve gotten yourself the best position in the kingdom. Getting paid generously to do absolutely nothing- well done! And unlike you, I mean what I say. I’m still not going to let anything happen to you, so don’t worry about your damned job.”

_“Shane!”_

“No!” Shane shouted. “What more could you possibly want, Ryan?!”

“I want _you!”_ Ryan blurted, the words slipping through his lips before he could stop them.

Shane froze, before his expression grew impassive again. “How?”

Ryan tried to stall. “What do you mean?”

He rolled his eyes. “What do you want me as? An employer? A friend? For god’s sake, Ryan, just _tell me!”_

Ryan decided to show him instead. He grabbed Shane’s collar and yanked his face to his. 

Ryan wouldn’t necessarily call their first kiss romantic. _Desperate_ was probably more fitting. Ryan slammed their lips together so aggressively, it almost hurt. He only got to enjoy the way Shane’s scratchy stubble contrasted with his soft lips for a moment before he felt him freeze and pull back, gripping Ryan’s biceps so tightly that he’d surely have bruises later. _Is he going to push me away or pull me closer?_

Both boys were breathing hard, having some type of silent stand-off as they stared into each other’s eyes, each daring the other to look away. Finally, Shane’s gaze flickered down to his lips, and that’s when Ryan knew all willpower was gone. For the both of them.

Shane used his hold on Ryan to shove him backwards, pushing him down onto the bed without hesitation. Shane crowded Ryan, his weight pressing him into the mattress and his long, taut arms propping him up far above his head. Their eyes met for a moment, before Shane leaned down to meet him. Ryan’s gasp was swallowed up by Shane’s lips as they kissed again, and again, and again… It was dizzying.

 _"Ryan,"_ Shane whispered reverently into his cheek.

Shane’s right hand came up to rub at Ryan’s jaw, coaxing him to open up. His tongue slipped into Ryan’s mouth teasingly before he leaned back, biting his lower lip ever so slightly. Their eyes met, and Ryan tried to form coherent words that melted into a moan as Shane’s long fingers crept into his hair and _pulled_ , exposing his neck. Ryan could only grip the sheets in his fists for dear life as Shane planted hot kisses up and down his neck, occasionally biting at the sensitive skin. He paused for a long moment to suck at the spot where Ryan’s neck met his collarbone. 

“Shane- _ah!”_ he groaned as Shane slotted his thigh between Ryan’s and ground down hard. His eyes flew open at the sensation. _Oh God…_ He had seen Shane’s dick before, and knew it was huge, but _feeling_ it was something else entirely. It was terrifying and arousing in equal measure. And neither of them were fully hard yet.

The other man’s lips came up to nibble at his ear, sending tingles down his neck. His hot breath came in pants. “Do you know how long you’ve made me _wait_ for this,” Shane growled. “I’ve wanted to rip your clothes off since the second I met you.”

“Oh, fuck, S-S-Shane,” Ryan stuttered out. He didn’t even know what he was trying to say; it was hard to think straight with all the sensations overwhelming his body. Logically, they should probably stop and talk about this, but he’s pretty sure the next words about to leave his mouth were, “please don’t stop-”

Shane beat him to it. When he leaned back to unbutton Ryan’s shirt, he paused, taking in Ryan’s expression. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” Ryan panted, trying to get his breathing under control.

The hunger in Shane’s eyes was replaced by concern. “Ryan, you’re trembling…” He got off him immediately. “Oh my gosh, I got caught up, I’m so sorry-”

Ryan had to laugh. “Please, don’t apologise. Don’t ever apologise for what you just did.”

Shane hesitantly came closer, laying down on his side to face him. “So what’s wrong?”

“I just… shouldn’t have done that,” Ryan finished sheepishly.

Shane grinned. “Me neither.”

Ryan didn’t get the chance to respond, as Shane immediately leaned in again, tipping Ryan’s jaw up with one finger, and pulling him back into another heated kiss. Ryan didn’t resist. _Who could?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, those last three chapters were quite a whirlwind... but we hope you enjoyed them?


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you wanted smut, you came to the right place.

A few minutes later, Ryan gently pulled back and rested his forehead on Shane’s, still panting and heaving. His eyes stayed closed.

“Ry?” Shane asked tentatively, resisting the urge to slam their lips back together. 

Ryan stayed quiet a minute, then stood up, his fingers pressed to bruised lips. Shane ached at the loss of contact, watching as Ryan paced back and forth across his chambers. 

“We can’t keep doing this.” His voice was small, but the words felt like ice in Shane’s chest. “You know we can’t. Not really.”

“We can stop here if you want. We don’t need to do anything else- it can end here.” Inside, Shane was screaming. And breaking things. But if Ryan wasn’t ready for this yet, Shane would wait. And if he was never ready? Shane thought about it for a moment, before conceding: he’d still be waiting. 

Ryan looked grateful, nodding. Shane patted the mattress, and sat on the edge, planting his feet on the floor and folding his arms. Much less seductive than sprawled on his back. Ryan smiled nervously, still touching his lips as if in shock. Ryan perched on the edge of the bed, a couple feet away. Shane struggled not to laugh as he watched Ryan’s legs swing off of the edge, his feet not even close to touching the floor. It was annoyingly endearing. _Concentrate, Shane._

“I’m sorry,” Ryan mumbled, apparently concentrating on a speck of dust on the floor. 

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Shane said gently. He wanted to comfort Ryan, to touch him and reassure him... That seemed to be off limits now. 

“It’s just… you’re the Prince, I’m your servant. I wouldn’t be doing my job properly. And you’re engaged. And it’s just too far.”

Shane fell silent, biting his tongue. He wanted to argue that no, it didn’t matter that he was the Prince. Clara didn’t matter. But Ryan wasn’t ready. So that was that. He was snapped out of his thoughts by Ryan, who was obviously thinking aloud. 

“This won’t change anything between us. Will it?” 

“Of course not, Ry.”

They fell silent again for a moment, a silence only broken by faint laughter. Shane jerked his head up in surprise. Surely this was a weird time to get the fucking giggles. 

Ryan muffled his laughter with his hands and flopped backwards onto the mattress.

“What?” Shane chuckled a little at the sight of his bright-red, wheezing manservant. “What is it?” It couldn’t possibly be that he was a bad kisser. He’s never gotten any complaints. 

“I just can’t believe that was my first…” His voice faltered as he realised what he’d let slip. 

_Uhh..._ Shane turned to face him. “Your first _what,_ Ryan?”

Ryan froze, and slowly sat back up. He answered tentatively. “First proper kiss? I mean, besides this one time when I was a teenager...”

 _Well, that was certainly unexpected…_ Shane had assumed “virgin” meant Ryan had just never been with a man. Not… never doing _anything._ He swallowed, trying to maintain his composure.

“Can you say something, please?” Ryan asked nervously.

Shane snapped out of it. “Oh, yeah, sorry. No, it’s fine, Ryan. I’m not judging you.” He reached out to comfort him, before thinking better of it.

“Okay, thanks…” Ryan scratched his head, a blush blooming on his cheeks. “It’s not that I _couldn’t_ , uh, I mean for women I could, but I don’t know, I guess it just never-”

This time, Shane couldn’t help it. He reached across the gap between them and put his hand on Ryan’s knee. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said sincerely. “You don’t need to justify yourself to me, or anyone. And you never have to do anything you don’t want to do.” 

The virgin(!) smiled shyly. “Uh, it’s not that I don’t want to…” Now he was really blushing. “I kinda… don’t know how?” He gulped. “I mean, I know how it works, but I don’t _know how it works_ , you know? It’s a pretty taboo subject...”

Shane frowned. “Uh, I’m not quite sure I do…” He hadn’t expected to have to give a sex talk until he had children of his own. “Do you have, um, any questions?”

Ryan shook his head vigorously and moved to get up. “Uh, nevermind. Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll, uh, figure it out one day, or maybe just die a virgin, it’s fine-”

“Ryan!” Shane reached out and stopped him. He sighed, giving his ridiculously innocent friend a searching look. “Sir Ryan, I feel it’s my… responsibility to give you a proper sex education.” He froze. “Not, like, _physically_ of course.” He exhaled. “I just don’t want you to go out into the great big world without being prepared… by someone you trust.” 

Ryan’s face was definitely giving off some type of emotion, Shane just wasn’t sure what.

“Uh, I mean I hope you trust me,” Shane backtracked. “I apologise if that was too forward, we don’t have to-”

“I trust you.”

“Oh.” Shane smiled softly. “Okay.”

Ryan sat down fully again, scooting up by the headboard. He took a giant fluffy pillow into his lap, a clear barrier between them. He looked down, squeezing it tightly. “If I ask you something, can you _promise_ not to tease me?”

“I promise.” Shane braced himself.

Ryan shoved his face into the pillow, muffling his voice: “I know what goes where, but I don’t understand how...” He peeked up at him for a moment, looking mortified. “The opening down there, it’s so small…” 

_Oh._ “Ah. Well, I can see how that can be confusing.” Shane rubbed his arm, glancing to the side. “Well first, not all gay men do that. Anal’s not, like, a requirement. Is that… something you’d be interested in?” Shane immediately cringed. _Could he be any more transparent?_

“I don’t know,” Ryan admitted. “Wouldn’t it hurt?”

“Are you saying you’d want to bottom? That means-”

“I know what it means.” Ryan finally gave up with the pillow, pushing it aside. He was practically as red as the sheets. “I guess? That’s how I always imagine it, at least. But I don’t know if I’d like the feeling…”

Shane tilted his head. “Have you never… touched yourself?”

“I have!” Ryan said defensively. “Just not up _there…”_

Shane raised his hands. “Okay, okay. Just asking.” _This manservant was truly full of surprises._ He bit his lip. “Well, my best advice would be to try it yourself. You know, before with anyone else. That way there’s no pressure if you don’t like it.”

“But I don’t know how…” Those dark eyes had no right being so wide and innocent.

Shane closed his eyes for a moment, asking the god he didn’t believe in to _give him strength right now._ “I can show you. Uh, explain, I mean,” he corrected quickly.

Ryan nodded and swallowed.

Hesitantly, Shane reached under his mattress, where he knew a trusty glass bottle rested. “Uh, do you know what this is?”

Ryan shook his head.

“So…” Shane took a breath, trying to think of not-sexy things. The first visual that came to mind was his fianceé. He thought of her sparkly blue eyes, pouty pink lips, the way her body curved gracefully from her perky breasts, to her small waist, her round hips... Her peaches and cream complexion… He sighed in relief. There. Boner exterminated. 

“Well, the anus doesn’t lubricate itself naturally…” He winced at how medical that sounded. Ryan didn’t seem to mind. “So you can, uh, use this. It helps ease penetration.”

“Okay, but I still don’t understand how things, uh, fit…”

“It can expand, if you, uh, stretch things out. Like, with your fingers. If you do it gradually, it might feel strange, but nothing will tear or anything.”

Ryan took a breath, looking relieved. “So… does it feel good?”

Shane coughed. “Uh, well, I prefer to top, but from the times I’ve done it, yes. It feels very good.” _You’ll like it, Ryan. I can show you…_ Nope, he wasn’t going to say that out loud.

Ryan’s discomfort seemed to ease somewhat. “Okay, doesn’t sound too difficult. Where can I get some of this stuff?”

“Oh, uh, here, you can borrow mine. Actually, maybe that’s kind of weird. You can just have it.” Shane shoved the bottle into Ryan’s hand. _Just bros being bros._

“Thank you?”

Shane cleared his throat. “You’re welcome.”

Ryan was still looking down at the bottle like it had randomly fallen from the sky.

The silence was deafening. Shane tried to fill it… and fumbled. “Ha ha, don’t use it all at once!” he exclaimed jovially. Ryan gave him a strange look.

“Ha, yeah, I won’t.”

More silence. 

“You could try tonight?" Shane suggested. "Like after you’ve bathed, you should feel all relaxed then…” _Let me help, let me help, let me help-_

“Okay,” Ryan said doubtfully. “Uh, yeah. I’ll try. Thanks, Shane.”

Shane smiled. “Sure, buddy.” He raised his hand for a high-five, which was even more awkward than it sounds. Ryan returned it with a laugh before standing up.

“Uh, yeah, glad you’re feeling better. I’m just gonna go, then…”

* * *

“Benson!” 

The servant sighed. What on earth did Prince Alexander want _now?_ He stepped into the royal chambers. “Yes, Sire?”

His employer was pacing anxiously, looking sweaty and quite flustered. “I need you to go to the market. Now. I need more oil.”

Benson gawked. “Already?! I just bought you a sizable bottle last week!”

Alexander glared. “Can’t you just, like, do what I ask?”

“Sorry, Your Highness,” Benson said quickly. “Not my place, I apologise. I’ll get right on that, Sir.”

_Yup, he’d earned that bet money fair and square._

* * *

That night, Ryan sat on his bed stark naked, feeling like a complete fool. He had the blanket pulled up to his chest. He hated being so exposed, even if alone. Ryan sighed. He tilted the glass bottle back and forth, watching the contents swirl around innocently.

_Had Shane used this?_ That was a pleasant thought.

 _Had he used this on someone else?_ A less pleasant thought.

Ryan didn’t even know how much to use. Finally, he pulled off the cap and dribbled some into his palm. It was odorless, slippery, and cold. He rubbed his hands together to warm it up. He started by experimentally spreading some on his cock, stroking up and down slowly. He wasn’t even hard yet; it’d probably take a while. Though he’d never admit it, this… normally didn’t come easy to Ryan.

Everything worked, thankfully. He supposed it was more a mental block. He jerked off occasionally, but it was solely a means to an end. An orgasm was the quickest way to resolve his insomnia. It was such a nighttime routine, he didn’t even think about it anymore. He didn’t stop to _enjoy_ it.

If he was honest with himself, Ryan knew why he was a virgin. He knew why getting hard took so long. Subconsciously, he felt he didn’t deserve the pleasure, didn’t deserve to feel that good and get lost in the moment. It was a ridiculous kind of penance. Sure, Ryan had hurt others, disappointed them, even failed them, but how did this make up for anything?

He’d been touching himself mindlessly as he mused. The sensation was pleasurable, and it hadn’t dried up like saliva does so easily, but _he still wasn’t hard._ He groaned, and not a groan of ecstasy. He quickly clapped his hand over his mouth. Shane was right next door; he didn’t need to hear this.

_Shane…_

Instantly, his cock reacted, twitching in his hand. Ryan almost smirked. _Of course that was the trick._ He normally didn’t fantasize during masturbation. The act was barely sexual. No wonder it was such a chore. But thinking of a certain cocky, immature, irritatingly endearing Prince, coaxing him through it… his dick stiffened right up. 

Ryan dipped his pointer finger into the oil. _Here goes nothing…?_

* * *

Did Shane sleep that night, knowing his innocent, virginal manservant was having quite the sexual discovery one room over?

No. No, he did not.

* * *

Fingering himself had been… strange. Ryan wasn’t sure he did it right. He supposed it was kind of pleasurable, but it’d be much better with some guidance, some step-by-step instruction...

Not that he and Shane would ever, _ever_ do that, of course.

* * *

_“S-S-Shane!”_ Ryan cried out desperately before dissolving into whimpers. If he stroked himself any longer, he was going to cum embarrassingly fast.

Shane chuckled, rubbing Ryan’s back from where they sat on a plush armchair in his bedchambers. “You’re doing great, baby. Want to try a finger?” he suggested in his ear. _"Show me what you've learned..."_

Ryan groaned on his lap, fully clothed except for his pants, pulled down indignantly to his ankles and restricting his movement. The air was cold on his bare skin, but Shane’s lap was warm underneath him, his lips hot as he trailed kisses along Ryan’s jaw. He was slow, and devastatingly attentive.

“Can’t you do it?” he whined. Shane was fully dressed in a white shirt and pants, completely put together while Ryan fell apart in his arms. 

The Prince grinned into his neck. “You know I can’t touch you like that.” He readjusted the smaller man on his lap, allowing him to feel his stiff cock rubbing against his ass. Ryan whined.

“Yeah, because this is _totally_ proper,” Ryan gasped as he circled his rim with his pointer finger.

Shane laughed quietly before pulling Ryan’s jaw in for a passionate kiss that left him breathless. “Maybe not. But I’m enjoying this little game of ours…”

Ryan panted while they leaned their foreheads together. He still hadn’t entered himself. “But isn’t this… gross? Like, do you really want to watch me do this?”

“Ryan,” Shane growled. He tilted Ryan’s chin to face his stern expression. “Look at me. There is _no_ part of you that isn’t beautiful. Not to me.” 

Ryan moaned. With that, his finger slipped in painlessly.

“Good boy.” 

Ryan almost came right there. “Oh, fuck, Shane-” he gasped in a strained voice. 

Shane’s hand came down to carefully guide Ryan’s hand in and out, in and out… “You’re doing amazing, Ry. Now, I want to hear what you thought about.”

“Hmm?” Ryan could barely keep his eyes open.

“Last night, when you touched yourself… what did you think about?” Shane pulled Ryan’s hand completely out. “How about you try another finger?”

“T-Two?” Ryan whimpered. He hadn’t gotten that far on his own.

“Only if you want to,” Shane said soothingly. He pressed a kiss to his temple. “But you _have_ to tell me what you thought about last night.”

“You.” _Wasn’t that obvious?_ Ryan pushed a second finger in. There was certainly more resistance, but it wasn’t painful. The only discomfort came from how achingly hard he was, dribbling pre-cum down his thigh.

Shane chuckled lowly in his ear. “I’m flattered, Sir Ryan.” His left arm held his waist tighter while his fingertips skimmed over his thigh. The lightest of touches… “But I want _details.”_

“Umm…” Ryan wasn’t able to focus, as he was currently trying to perform the scissoring motion that Shane had explained earlier. It felt weird. 

Shane abruptly grabbed his hand, forcing him to stop moving and concentrate. “Tell me.”

Ryan blushed. Sharing these fantasies was terrifyingly intimate. “What do you want to know?”

“Where were we?”

“Your room, your bed.” Ryan yelped as Shane suddenly slipped his fingers back in.

“Good. What were we doing?”

Ryan blushed, choosing to bury his face in Shane’s neck rather than meet his gaze. “Kissing…”

“Aww, just kissing?” He could hear the smile in Shane’s voice. “That’s adorable.” 

“Shut up,” Ryan grumbled. 

“I mean it.” Shane pushed Ryan’s fingers deep, deeper than he thought was possible. He squirmed as they hit some kind of sensitive area. It was almost too much. “You’re precious, Ryan.”

No one had ever called him that before. Words started spilling out of his mouth: “You were on top of me. It was just like last time. We were picking up where we left off…”

“Mmm. I like the sound of that…” Shane’s breath ghosted over his ear. “Can you take a third finger, baby? I think you can.”

“A _third?”_ Ryan was hesitant. “Won’t it hurt?”

Shane shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not at this point. We’ll go slow.”

“I don’t-I don’t know…” Ryan gasped. He certainly didn’t want to stop.

Shane gently kissed his cheek. “It’s okay, Ry. We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. We can stop at any time. In fact, we could be done right now…?”

“No!” Ryan squeaked, bringing up both arms to clutch desperately at Shane’s neck. Shane laughed.

“Okay, okay. Can you try a third finger, Ry? For me?”

There was no refusing that voice, not when he spoke like _that_. “Okay…” Ryan inserted two fingers, then _carefully_ started to ease in another… It was a slow, dull burn, but he felt himself begin to magically open up.

“You’re doing so good for me, Ry,” Shane rasped. “Look at you, so fucking gorgeous, beautiful inside and out…” The words made his chest feel all warm and funny.

“Ah!” He jolted up in Shane’s lap when he felt something unexpected.

“You alright, baby?” Shane rubbed his back again soothingly.

“Y-Yeah, there’s just, there’s just this weird spot.”

Shane smirked. “That’s your prostate. It’s supposed to feel good.”

“I don’t think I’m doing it right…” Ryan was sweating from the effort. “Touch me, please, I need it…”

“Ryan!” Shane pretended to be scandalized. “We can’t do that; you're my manservant!”

He wasn’t above begging. “Shane, _please!”_

Shane chuckled. “Fine, fine. Anything you want. But you’ll have to listen to me very carefully…”

“I will, just, please…”

Shane brought Ryan’s hand back up to his exposed dick. “Stroke yourself,” he instructed. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

Ryan swallowed and nodded with his eyes closed, gripping his cock in a loose fist and slowly sliding from root to tip. 

Shane slipped a finger in.

“FUCK!” Ryan had to hold himself tightly at the base to make sure he didn’t cum right there. “Shane, I-”

Shane slipped a second finger in.

“OH MY GOD!” Without realizing what he was doing, Ryan clenched down on Shane’s fingers, hissing at the sensation. His legs were shaking. He’d probably fall right off the chair if he wasn’t being held so securely.

“Breathe, okay? Try to relax…” Ryan nodded while his chest heaved. He was incapable of responding right now.

Shane slipped a third finger in. He crooked it ever so slightly…

The effect was instant. “FUCK, SHANE, I’M-” Ryan’s whole body got tense, his ass clenching down on Shane’s fingers as he presses into that spot, rubbing it over and over with his finger. Ryan’s cock jerked in hand one last time before his orgasm ripped through his body in waves. He pumped himself faster and faster as he spurted over the both of them in thick ropes. And it just kept _coming_. Ryan had never gotten off like this, not with his entire body.

Shane continued to stroke the spot as Ryan fell apart above him, breath caught in his throat. His body shook helplessly as his senses were overwhelmed by the intense pleasure. He might have actually blacked out for a moment, because when he came to, Shane’s fingers were no longer inside him. He was taking care of himself, grunting as he dug his fingers into Ryan’s hips and ground him down on his erection. Ryan was useless in aiding him, having lost all muscle function. Shane’s enormous cock jerked through his pants as he held him in place and finished himself off.

Ryan’s cock gave one last twitch, come leaking from the tip, before he collapsed against Shane, panting hard. Shane had finally lost his composure as well; he was breathing raggedly. The boys’ eyes met; Shane’s satisfied grin made him even dizzier.

An almost hysterical laugh bubbled out of Ryan’s mouth as he tried to regain his composure. Shane smiled and pulled him securely to his chest, letting him catch his breath. Sir Ryan of Tyneham had just one last thing to say:

“We… can _never_ do that again.”

Shane barked out a laugh. “Never,” he agreed.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Mo, because you’re doing amazing sweetie, and true friends write filthy smut for each other ❤️

Shane was as cozy as could be, dozing off in his armchair while holding his manservant. The weight of Ryan in his lap should've been uncomfortable, but it really wasn’t. Over past half hour or so, Ryan had relaxed into him so much, Shane wasn’t sure where one of them ended and the other began. With the throw pulled up around them, the warmth seeping into his skin and down to his bones, it felt like he’d never be cold again. Shane readjusted his hold on Ryan, trying, if it was possible, to shift a little closer. Who knows how long this would last? Ryan had made it perfectly clear they were _never_ going to touch like this again. 

He wasn’t sure how much Ryan had meant that, but he wasn’t going to let it ruin the moment. Best to savour it, take it all in while he could. They’ll worry about the fate of the kingdoms later. Besides, Ryan can ruin the moment perfectly fine on his own:

He sat up straight on Shane’s lap, looking worried. _Here we go._

“What is it, Ry?”

He flushed, adjusting himself on Shane’s lap. A dangerous decision. “What we did…”

“I know, I know, we’re never doing it again…” Shane said, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. A half-hour ago, they’d agreed that as soon as they got up, it’s over. They were stalling the inevitable.

“Not that, um…” Ryan bit his lip.

Shane raised an eyebrow. “If you’re not comfortable with me by now, I don’t know what to tell you, buddy.”

“Fine. Are things gonna go back to normal… down there?” Ryan looked down pointedly.

Shane frowned. _How little did this manservant know?_ “Define normal.”

He crossed his arms. “Did you or did you not destroy my asshole, Shane Madej?”

Shane snorted. “Oh my god, no. You’re fine, things will tighten up again. Besides, you haven’t seen anything yet.” He winked, because he truly couldn’t fucking help himself.

That was the final straw. Ryan swatted him and got up. “Never again!” he said firmly.

Shane sighed. “Sure, sure…”

He hated to see his manservant leave, but loved to watch him walk away, especially if he was a bit stiff...

* * *

The marketplace was crowded for a Sunday morning. The bright summer sun cast warm rays on the stalls, filled with baskets of fruits and vegetables, bread, racks of clothes, and even piles of weapons and tools. Ryan watched as Shane wrinkled his nose at the smell of the butchers wafting over from the meat-hooks. Sellers called out, offering bargains and sales to the crowds swarming amongst the stalls. Some eyes lingered on Shane, no doubt recognising him, causing Ryan to tighten his anxious grip on the hilt of his sword. It was harder to keep track of the Prince in the throng of people, even with his height. But Ryan was prepared. And no petty thief was going to get within an inch of Shane. Speaking of which…

“Look at that!” Shane gleefully pointed over at some street performers, who were skillfully juggling with increasingly dangerous objects. Ryan laughed at Shane’s childlike wonder. It was like he’d never seen a court jester, although he knew that wasn’t true. Shane grinned expectantly down at Ryan.

“Impressive!” Ryan nodded, even though he’d seen those two men performing the same little act hundreds of times in the last ten years. Shane began wandering amongst the stalls, looking excitedly around at all the different products on offer. Ryan hurried after him, standing behind him and looking about somewhat anxiously. No one looked particularly suspicious, least of all the blushing, elderly fabric seller with whom Shane was so animatedly chatting, although it was difficult to relax with this many people around. It didn’t help that the most valuable person in the kingdom seemed determined to befriend everyone he came across. 

While Shane continued to flatter the woman, complimenting her array of silks and velvets on display, Ryan cast his eye at the pottery market stall, looking for the old seller who used to buy eggs off Ryan’s mother in exchange for milk. He was a sweet old man, making most of his living from his pottery and ceramics stand. He was always kind to Ryan and his siblings. Unfortunately, he wasn’t there, a young woman had taken his place behind the table. However, something else caught his eye. _But…_

Ryan squinted at the vase. _It was definitely the vase._ It was the exact same shade of blue. It was the same size, even the same exact pattern.

“Uh, Shane!” Ryan hissed, swatting Shane’s shoulder. 

“Hm?” Shane turned away from the fabric seller, giving her a winning smile and a final wink to pleasantly end their conversation. “You alright, Ry?”

Ryan dropped his voice to a whisper, and pointed at the vase. “That’s your vase! The one from your room!”

Shane followed his finger, and his face dropped. Just for a second. Then he rearranged his expression into an airy smile. “It’s very similar, but it’s not _my_ vase. I broke it, remember?”

“I thought it was priceless…” 

“A good copy!” Shane looked bored. He waved his hands in a _‘well, what can you do’_ gesture, and took off in the direction of the leather workers. God, it was like taking Ryan’s little siblings to the market. “Now, let’s find you some shoes,” he called over his shoulder. 

Ryan paused for a moment, staring back at the vase, eyes narrowed. It couldn’t just be a copy… But why would Shane lie to him? He shrugged, and hurried after the Prince. Wouldn’t want to lose him after five damn minutes. 

__“How about those? They fancy enough for you?” Shane pointed at some sleek, brown leather boots on display. “They work for dancing, right?”_ _

Ryan rolled his eyes, watching with an eyebrow raised as Shane tapped his feet, hopping back and forth in the middle of the marketplace. He truly did not give a single shit what people thought, and everyone adored him anyways. _Must be nice._

“They’re nice, but you don’t have to get them for me. Dancing isn’t really my thing.” 

“Dancing isn’t really my thing either- look at me!” Shane started waggling his arms up and down, kicking his legs up. “I have very long limbs and not much coordination. But we’ll have fun, I’ll make sure of it!” He winked at Ryan, nudging his shoulder. Apparently that meant he was buying the shoes, then. 

Ryan had to laugh. “You’re right. That dancing is horrendous. You should be arrested for indecency.” 

Shane grimaced, holding his hand up. “Too soon.” 

Ryan shrugged. It was over; he was fine to joke about it. 

“But you will dance at the ball, won’t you?” Shane looked so hopeful, looking down at Ryan with a little smile. “Come on, Ry…” 

Ryan sighed. He tried for a diversion: “What’s the purpose of this thing, anyways?” 

“It’s meant to be a symbol of unity for the kingdoms,” Shane said, affecting a pompous accent and making grandiose gestures. “Prince Alexander and Princess Clarissa, the loving, betrothed couple making their debut as future King and Queen.” 

Ryan chuckled at Shane’s foul expression. “So her whole family is going to be there?” 

Shane nodded. “Everyone who’s anyone will be there. It’s going to be sickeningly boring, but I’m keeping it together for two reasons: one, the fancy costumes! And two, I get to make a lanky fool of myself on the dance floor. And I hope you’ll be joining me…” He gave Ryan a look with narrowed eyes. It sounded more like a threat than an invitation. 

But Ryan wasn’t afraid of Shane anymore. He stuck his tongue out. 

“You better...” Shane sidled up to Ryan with a mischievous look on his face, looking down at him with an eyebrow raised and a flirty smirk. “Or else.” 

“Or else what, your highness?” Ryan challenged, grinning defiantly. 

“Or else I might just have to force you.” Shane leaned down, his eyes twinkling with laughter. His face was just inches away. An overwhelming desire to kiss him waved over Ryan, along with the realisation of what was happening. And where. In front of how many people. The smile melted off at the thought, and Ryan jerked his head back, stumbling in his effort to _get away._

Shane stiffened and stood up straight, his warm and flirty expression now cold and stony. “Let’s go home,” he muttered, turning back in the direction of the castle. 

_Shit._

* * *

The boys didn’t talk much as they rode home, especially after Shane grabbed Ryan’s hand to pull him from the path of a rogue wooden cart. Ryan yanked his hand away with a glare that bordered on disgust. 

“What’s your problem, Ryan?” 

“Don’t do that here!” he hissed. 

__Shane crossed his arms. “Oh, I see. Got it. I’ll make sure you get hit next time.” He stormed off to where their horses were waiting, knowing Ryan would follow._ _

* * *

__Shane didn’t consider what happened earlier to be a full-fledged fight, more like how he squabbled with Katie. Ryan had probably just had enough of Shane for the day, which was fair. And as much as Shane was enamoured with his manservant, he could get sick of the seriousness, the silence, the insistent adherence to rules…_ _

__So when Shane mentioned he was going to go get cleaned up, he thought they were going their separate ways for the night. But Ryan looked hesitant._ _

__“Seriously, Ry. It’s fine. I learned how to bathe myself, remember?”_ _

__“I know…”_ _

__Shane frowned. He didn’t know where this was coming from. “You’re sick of me,” he pointed out._ _

__Ryan rubbed his arm. “Yeah, a little.”_ _

__“And I’m sick of you.”_ _

__Ryan shrugged. “That’s fair.”_ _

__“Am I missing something here...?”_ _

__“I get nervous,” Ryan said quietly. “About being apart from you. After what happened…”_ _

_Me too._ “Alright.” Shane nodded stiffly. “C’mon then…” 

It didn’t matter that he was going to be stark naked in front of Ryan. After all, they were never doing _that_ again. 

* * *

“See? We’re not doing anything wrong,” Shane said reassuringly. “I’m not even touching you. We’re just two dudes sitting in a tub.” 

A very flustered, _very_ naked Ryan sat across from him. “Ugh.” He covered his face and sunk under the bubbles. 

“Hey!” Shane laughed, reaching over and pulling his manservant back up (by his shoulders, of course). “No drowning yourself; it’s _fine._ This was your idea, remember?” 

“Yeah…” Ryan admitted. “I don’t know, the water looked so nice. I just wanted to relax.” 

Shane smiled. “Then _relax._ I won’t touch you. See?” He raised his hands above the water, and could’ve sworn his bath mate shuddered a little when he glanced at Shane’s fingers. “Unless… you want me to?” He didn’t mean to presume, but _come on._

Ryan gulped, his eyes trailing down Shane’s neck, his chest, to where his body was less visible under the hazy water. 

___“You can ask for what you want, Ry,” Shane said softly._ _ _

“I don’t know how…” 

Shane carefully leaned forward in the hot water, taking one of Ryan’s hands in his under the surface. “What do you like? I’m open-minded.” He winked, trying to reduce the tension. 

Ryan bit his lip and looked off to the side, drumming his fingertips on the side of the tub. Shane sat back, uncertain of what to do. He considered the valiant, fearless knight in front of him, too shy to even look him in the eye. How could _this_ be more daunting than a battlefield? Then he thought about what’d it be like to fight alongside men, to _kill_ men, but somehow being made to feel that the worst sin of all was to love one. 

“You’ve never thought about it, have you?” Shane asked, as gently as he could. “What you want?” 

“No. Not really.” Ryan looked so ashamed. “Growing up the way I did, those thoughts were dangerous…” 

“I understand.” Shane paused for a moment, playing with Ryan’s fingers under the water, opening and closing his fist. He seemed to be subconsciously resisting, not letting his body just _give in._ “Look Ryan, I don’t pretend to know much about the world and how it works, considering I’ve grown up _here._ But I do like to think I know a little about what makes a man feel good.” 

Ryan blushed and smiled shyly. “You do.” 

Shane smiled back, glimmering with pride. “I want to make you feel good, Ryan. But I think you need to learn how to make yourself feel good first. Know thyself, and all that…” 

For some reason, the idea appeared to be even more discomforting. 

___Shane sighed. “I know this is hard, but you’ve gotta give me something here, Ry. Is that something you’d want? You know you deserve to feel good, right?”_ _ _

And _that_ was what got through to him. “I’m… starting to.” 

Shane grinned. “Good.” He gently tugged on Ryan’s hand. “C’mere.” 

___Ryan blinked at him. “What? I am here.”_ _ _

___Shane tugged again, and this time Ryan let himself be pulled. “It’s okay, baby. Let me take care of you.”_ _ _

___Ryan reluctantly let himself be maneuvered so his back was pressed to Shane’s chest. Despite his reservations, the warm water had him relaxing, body slumping back against Shane’s embrace. He closed his eyes and let out a pleased sigh._ _ _

___Shane adjusted so Ryan was sitting comfortably between his legs. “There’s no shame in feeling good, you know? Nobody’s going to get hurt.”_ _ _

___Ryan opened his eyes. “Well, actually…”_ _ _

___“Nope. Don’t fight me on this.”_ _ _

___“I can’t stop worrying,” Ryan admitted in a small voice. He probably found this easier now that they weren’t facing each other._ _ _

___Shane pulled Ryan even closer, squeezing around his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. “I understand. Maybe I can help you stop thinking for a bit…”_ _ _

___“I don’t know if I can.”_ _ _

___"Shhh, just relax. Just listen to me talk, okay? Don't think, just listen, and do as I tell you."_ _ _

___Ryan opened his mouth to protest, but Shane brushed his bottom lip with his thumb, and Ryan closed his mouth. "Just do as I say. I promise you'll like it. Trust me."_ _ _

___“Okay,” Ryan said finally. “What do you want me to do?”_ _ _

___“Close your eyes,” Shane whispered. He did so._ _ _

___“Where do you hold tension in your body?”_ _ _

___Ryan thought about it. “Everywhere. But mostly… my neck. My shoulders. The muscles are always so stiff. I can’t get them to relax.”_ _ _

___“That’s okay. Let’s try something new. How about you go through and flex each muscle as hard as you can, make it as tense as can be, and then let it go?”_ _ _

___Ryan took a deep breath, and tried to follow the instructions, his eyes pressed firmly shut. Shane felt the muscles flex in his shoulders, his arms, his hands… The relief was visible; Ryan’s breathing became deeper as his body started to let go. He eventually let his head flop back, resting gently on Shane’s shoulder._ _ _

Shane bit his lip with a small smile, feeling the tension drain out of Ryan, seeping out of his muscles and finally letting him relax. _That was easier than expected._

___“What now?” Ryan asked quietly._ _ _

___Shane was careful in his phrasing: “Did you, um, like what we did last time?”_ _ _

___“Oh god, yes.”_ _ _

___Shane smiled into the back of Ryan’s neck. “What did you like about it?”_ _ _

___“I like how you held me. I like how much bigger you are than me. I like how you’re strong enough to push me around, even though I could still kick your ass if I wanted to.”_ _ _

___Shane laughed. “I like that, too. See, I don’t really have the power here, Ryan. You do. You get to decide whether to hand it over.”_ _ _

___“I want to…”_ _ _

___The words ignited a spark of excitement in Shane’s chest. “Oh yeah? What else do you want?”_ _ _

___Ryan mumbled something, probably hoping Shane couldn’t hear._ _ _

___Shane smirked and leaned into his ear. “Care to share with the class, Ry?”_ _ _

___Ryan was pointedly not turning around, not making eye contact. “I, um, kind of want you to touch me…”_ _ _

___“Where?” Shane prodded._ _ _

___Ryan blushed. “Under the water.”_ _ _

___Shane chuckled, letting his hands slide lower on Ryan’s waist, fingertips skimming over his abdomen. He felt the muscles twitch in response. “Like this?”_ _ _

___“Um, maybe a little lower?”_ _ _

___Shane grinned and let his hands slide down Ryan’s hips to cup the bottom of his thighs, purposely avoiding his groin area._ _ _

___“Too low. Come on, Shane,” Ryan groaned. “You know what I mean.”_ _ _

___“I’m not sure I do, Ry. Not until you say it.”_ _ _

“Ugh. Can you, Prince Alexander Cedric Madej, please touch my… _dick?”_ He whispered the last word as delicately as if they were in church. 

___Shane smirked. “Knew you could do it.” His left arm hugged Ryan’s waist, keeping him firmly in place while his other hand slid downward. When he reached what he was searching for, he wrapped his hand around Ryan’s cock in a loose grip, slowly making his way to the tip, where he rubbed his thumb over the head in slow circles, paying special attention to its slit._ _ _

___Ryan gasped, nearly jumping._ _ _

___“Does that feel good?”_ _ _

___“Yes. Please, don’t stop.”_ _ _

___Shane reached lower, carefully fondling Ryan’s balls, rolling each around in his hand. Ryan gripped onto the sides of the tub and moaned, the sound that’d been haunting Shane’s dreams for days. Once he’d heard the way Ryan whimpered his name, there was no going back. He kissed Ryan’s neck and resumed stroking his length, loving how smooth Ryan was, how reactive, how he curved slightly in his hand..._ _ _

___“Faster, please,” Ryan whined. “Tighter.”_ _ _

___Shane grazed his teeth over the back of Ryan’s ear, feeling him shiver. “Look at you, finally telling me what you want. Good boy.” He grasped Ryan’s dick firmly and pumped him up and down, working gradually to a pace that had him panting._ _ _

___“It’s okay, baby. Let go,” Shane encouraged, gritting his teeth as he sped up even more._ _ _

“Shane, fuck, ah, _oh god!"_ Every muscle in Ryan’s body tensed, before he relaxed, just as easily as he had before. Shane slowed down, working him through his orgasm until he felt him flinch from oversensitivity. He wrapped his arms around Ryan’s middle, nuzzling his neck. 

___“How did that feel, Ry?”_ _ _

___“Amazing,” Ryan sighed. He turned around, in Shane’s arms, looking at him with those dark, innocent eyes. “Can I ask you something?”_ _ _

___“Sure. Anything you want.”_ _ _

___Ryan’s gaze flickered down to Shane’s lips before returning to his eyes. “What do you taste like?”_ _ _

Shane deserved absolute credit for not cumming right then and there. The visuals running through his mind were _not_ appropriate. He cleared his throat. “You’re welcome to have a taste, if you’d like.” 

___Did Shane picture those soft, plush lips lowering to wrap around his dick? Of course he did. He’s only a man, after all. Instead, Ryan leaned forward for a tentative kiss. Shane wasn’t complaining, bringing his hands up to cradle Ryan’s neck._ _ _

___He was careful to let Ryan take control this time, to discover at his own pace. Ryan’s tongue swept across his lips; they parted without protest. His tongue slipped into his mouth, sliding clumsily over his teeth before smoothing over Shane’s. Shane sighed._ _ _

___Ryan gasped and immediately pulled back, touching his lips in shock._ _ _

___“What is it?”_ _ _

“N-Nothing, it’s just that… you taste _good.”_

___It was Shane’s turn to blush. “Why thank you, Ryan.”_ _ _

___“Can I keep going?” he asked eagerly, his gaze trailing down the rest of Shane’s body._ _ _

___“Oh my god, yes.”_ _ _

When Ryan placed his hands on Shane’s shoulders and gently kissed his cheek, Shane couldn’t help but smile. _So innocent._ His mouth brushed over his jaw, down to the crook of his neck… Shane closed his eyes and leaned back to give him more space. Ryan hesitantly began sucking at the skin there, sucking harder when Shane groaned. 

___He kissed down Shane’s chest, glancing up when he reached his nipple, silently asking permission._ _ _

___Shane smiled and swept the wet, dark curls from Ryan’s face. “Go ahead.” Gently, Ryan sucked the small, pink mound into his mouth, carefully keeping his teeth out of the way as he swirled his tongue around the tip._ _ _

Shane moaned. “Jesus Christ, Ryan, where did you learn to do _that?”_

___Ryan pulled off. “I didn’t, I just wanted to. Was it good?”_ _ _

“Oh, _yes.”_

___Ryan grinned and moved to give the same treatment to the other nipple, when he paused. “Where did these come from?” He brushed his fingertips over the blue and purple bruises decorating his ribs. “There’s some on your arm, too…”_ _ _

___“Nothing,” Shane said quickly. “Y’know, sword practise. Horse riding. Prince things.”_ _ _

___Ryan pressed a kiss to the largest bruise on Shane’s sternum. “You need to be more careful.” He then resumed exploring Shane’s upper body with his mouth, kissing, tonging, occasionally sucking. Shane had been trying his damndest to keep his pelvis tucked back so Ryan wouldn’t be overwhelmed by how ridiculously aroused he was. But he kept getting closer and closer…_ _ _

___The tip of Shane’s dick brushed between his cheeks, making Ryan jolt. “Oh!”_ _ _

___“Sorry!” Shane awkwardly disentangled himself and sat back. “Didn’t mean for you to feel that. You’re not, uh, obligated to do anything about it.”_ _ _

___“No, it’s okay...” Ryan said thoughtfully. He looked down at Shane’s hard dick underwater with a frown, seemingly considering something._ _ _

___Shane laughed. “I hope you’re not thinking of trying to give me a blowjob underwater. I’m honoured, Ryan, but I’d rather you not drown yourself.”_ _ _

___Ryan smiled sheepishly and covered his face. “I’m no good at this.”_ _ _

___Shane couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Ryan,” he sighed, making a point to sit up on his knees and lean forward to avoid any unintended contact. He cupped Ryan’s face. “Listen to me. You’re perfect.”_ _ _

___He flushed. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”_ _ _

___Shane shrugged and grinned. “You’ll learn.”_ _ _

___Ryan laughed breathily, leaning in even closer. He was inches from Shane’s face, their lips almost touching. Almost. “Although we’re _never_ doing this again.”_ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Them: we’re never gonna do this again
> 
> Narrator: they were, in fact gonna do this again


	25. Chapter 25

Shane’s bath didn’t go _quite_ as well the next day.

Ryan, it seemed, was an enigma. Shane watched as he fiddled with the soap bottle, perched on the edge of the bathtub. It was difficult to tell which Ryan he was going to get from day to day. Would he be warm and flirty? Or would he be closed off and cold? Today, it wasn’t totally clear which Ryan would come out to play.

Ryan poured the last of the soap into the water, pointedly looking away from Shane. It was funny: despite how intimate they’d been, Ryan still did his best to avoid looking at his body. No matter how welcome it was. Shane decided to take it as a compliment. He must be tempting, then.

“Don’t care to join me, today?” Shane swished his hands in the water. “It’s _very_ relaxing.”

Ryan shook his head. “Uh, no thanks. I shouldn’t have… What we did last time, it was a terrible idea. And I know it’s my fault; I’m sorry.” 

_Ugh._ So it was brooding, sulky knight Ryan today. 

“What are you talking about, Ry?” Shane laughed, sitting up straighter and leaning over the side of the tub. Water trickled down, puddling on the floor. “You don’t need to apologise for that. You _never_ need to apologise for that.” 

“Is there a church nearby?” Ryan asked, seemingly out of nowhere. “I’ve never really been religious, but maybe I should go. Maybe we _both_ should go.”

 _Wow._ Shane stared at Ryan unblinkingly. He wasn’t one for institutionalised worship, and he certainly didn’t think the church should have any impact on who loves who. The church can stay out of his damn relationships, thank you. 

“Do you really think what we’re doing is so wrong?” 

Ryan bit his lip. “I don’t think being gay is wrong, but there’s… other things I could repent for.”

Shane frowned at the most irritatingly moral person he knew. “Listen, the broody, tortured soul thing is sexy, but don’t you think it’s time we’ve moved past that?”

Ryan glared. “Don’t do that. Don’t belittle me. You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

Shane threw his hands up in the air. “Then, please! Enlighten me!” 

Ryan was silent, crossing his arms and sulking as he leaned against the wall. 

“Hey, Ryan, remember how I tried to teach you how to relax last time? It really seems like you need more lessons.” 

Ryan _almost_ seemed to consider it for a moment before he said, “I’ve had enough of this. I’ll be waiting outside.”

Shane’s gaze followed him out the door. He hated being ignored, and he could be, admittedly, childish about it. Besides, a joke had gotten his manservant to loosen up in the past. So it was with that childish attitude that Shane aggressively splashed the water around and yelled, “RYAN! HELP, I CAN’T SWIM!”

He’d barely finished getting the words out when Ryan had run back into the room, looking completely frantic. His wild eyes met Shane’s, before he froze. 

Shane laughed, settling back down in the water. “You really think I’d need to swim in a bathtub?!” He instantly regretted his actions, because the recipient of his stupid prank had gone deathly pale. 

“Ryan?”

Ryan blinked. Blinked again. His right hand mindlessly grasped for a sword that wasn’t there. 

Shane suddenly realised what Ryan must’ve been feeling moments before, because the same panic was sinking into his skin. “Ryan? You okay?”

He didn’t seem to hear Shane. Didn’t even really seem to know where he was. Ryan’s vision was blurry and unfocussed, giving a very real indication that he might pass out.

Shane stood up from the water. Unfortunately, that was when Ryan decided to notice him, flinching visibly before glancing away. Shane looked down at his very naked form. “Oh, sorry!” The towel was warming near the fireplace, and he couldn’t spare another second, so he pulled his old clothes over his still dripping skin. The damp cloth stuck to him uncomfortably, but he had much more real concerns right now.

Carefully, he walked over, feeling like he was approaching a wounded animal. At this point, he recognised that he was absolutely clueless when it came to this man, so he simply asked, “What do you need right now, Ry?”

“I’m cold.” 

A strange response. The temperature in the room hadn’t dropped tremendously in the last minute. Not physically, at least. But whatever Ryan needed, right? “Then let’s get you warm.”

He took Ryan’s hand, feeling relieved when he didn’t jerk away like last time, and led him carefully to the fireplace. Shane sat down, gently pulling Ryan’s hand. At the slight pressure, Ryan crumpled into Shane’s lap and lay there, breathing shallowly. _What the fuck was happening?_ Shane shuffled forwards, trying to get closer to the fireplace. The warmth began soaking through his damp clothes. Hopefully it would warm Ryan up too.

Shane looked down at Ryan, still curled up in his lap. His eyes were wide and unblinking, and he shivered violently, as if he had been left out in the snow- not lying in front of a fire in a steaming bathing room. Sweat beaded on his pale forehead. This wasn’t anything new for Shane. He’d seen this before, with Father.

For weeks after the assassination, Father had been… numb. He didn’t grieve like the rest of the family, not for weeks. He’d leapt into action, updating the security systems, organising the funerals and memorials, sending out spies and informants to gather intelligence about who could have possibly done this. He hadn’t stopped to shed a tear, let alone mourn. But it seemed that when he’d finished tying up all the loose ends, weeks later, he had nothing to hide behind anymore. The King broke down in front of the royal court. He fell to the floor, trembling all over, and stopped responding. To anyone or anything. 

Shane remembered falling to his knees beside him. _Did he have a fever? Was he injured? Was he… dying?_ He was so pale, so wracked with shivers, covered in sweat, and his eyes… were glassy. Empty. Just like Ryan’s. 

If Father had this reaction to the trauma of his family being brutally murdered…. What had Ryan been through? _Drowning…_ That must be it. Shane had made an incredibly insensitive joke, not realising that Ryan must’ve nearly drowned at some point.

A sharp intake of breath. Shane looked down to see Ryan had seemingly returned to the present, blinking rapidly and looking around, as if he just realized where he was. When he registered Shane was holding him, he jerked out of his embrace. “What are you doing?” he accused.

The sudden mood shift was disorienting. “Um, trying to comfort you? I’m really sorry, Ryan. What I said earlier, it was so stupid-”

“Save it,” Ryan snapped as he stood up, brushing himself off as if he could brush Shane right off him.

Shane stood up as well, taking a steadying breath. “I don’t understand, what _happened?”_ Then, and now.

Ryan glared. “You don’t get to ask me that.” 

Shane held his hands up. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I just meant, are you okay?”

“Fuck you.”

Well, that certainly answered things. The words stung, but Shane was still overwhelmed with concern. “Can you please talk to me?”

“No.” Ryan turned to leave, but there was no way he could be alone right now. Shane knew what he had to do, and he knew Ryan would hate him even more for it, but at least he’d be safe.

“Don’t leave.”

Ryan turned around, mouth open in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

Shane took a breath. He hated, hated, _hated_ the words about to come out of his mouth: “I order you to stay.”

Disbelief turned to hurt, which turned into seething rage. “Are you fucking serious?”

“I am. I don’t want you to be alone right now.”

“And you think _you’re_ the one who can comfort me?” Ryan sneered.

Shane winced. The bitterness, the harshness, the intention to _hurt_ , this wasn’t Ryan. “Maybe not, but this isn’t a discussion. We’re going up to my chambers.”

“I don’t _want_ to go to your stupid room!”

No other servant would dare speak to the Prince this way, and yet Shane preferred this over when Ryan reverted to acting like a proper manservant. “Fine. We’ll go to yours.”

* * *

It had been a quiet walk to Ryan’ chambers, with Ryan storming a few metres ahead. Shane had awkwardly sat at the small table in the corner of Ryan’s chambers while Ryan flopped onto his bed. 

It felt like such an intrusion. Shane’s skin crawled with discomfort. Ryan didn’t want him here. This was all wrong. 

“I don’t know where you get off on suddenly giving me orders,” Ryan said bitterly, breaking the silence. “So _today_ is the day you’ve decided to try to act like an actual Prince?”

Shane had been mostly silent, just enduring the insults. He knew Ryan was trying to make him leave.

“Jokes on you, _Alexander_ , because you’re not a Prince. Everyone knows you’re a goddamn child.”

“I’ve heard this all before, Ryan,” Shane sighed. 

“You really have no respect for boundaries, do you? I’m probably the first person who’s told you _no_ and look at you, you can’t fucking handle it.”

Shane tried to let the stings bounce off his skin. “This isn’t about me, Ryan,” he pleaded. “I’m worried about you. I don’t know what to do!” Everything he did seemed to make things worse.

Ryan glared. “I couldn’t possibly be more clear: leave me alone.” He dragged out the last three words, spitting them out as if they left a bad taste in his mouth.

Shane sighed. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“I know it’s hard for you to understand, but some of us don’t _want_ your company.”

“I’m worried about you,” Shane repeated.

“What, you think I’m gonna jump out this window the moment you leave?” Ryan sneered.

_Something like that._

“Wow. Great to know you think I’m a nut case.” 

“No, I don’t!” Shane protested. “You’ve clearly been through something. That’s all.”

Ryan considered for a moment. “If I promise not to do anything to hurt myself, will you leave?”

Shane’s face fell. “I didn’t really think you were gonna… You just seem so upset.”

“Because of you,” Ryan pointed out. “And I’ve been getting increasingly angry, because of _you._ If you really want me to feel better, or to apologise, or whatever bullshit, you’ll fucking leave.”

That was what got through to him. “Fine.” Shane stood up from the table. “I’m here if you need me, okay?”

“I don’t,” Ryan said coldly. 

And Shane might’ve truly believed that Ryan was really that cold and heartless, if he hadn’t noticed the trail of tears down his cheeks.

Shane closed the door behind him with a quiet _click._


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ve learned from google that history is incredibly unsexy. Historical accuracy? We don't know her.

“It doesn’t matter much to me, as long as it’s white,” Clara said. She was much more focussed on holding her breath as Fiona laced her into her corset, yanking on the strings. A little too aggressively. She clutched at the banister for balance, digging her nails in. 

Benson turned to Shane, holding out two similar masks. “Is there one you’d prefer on your betrothed, Sire?”

Shane snorted. “Whichever covers her face most.”

Fiona gasped. Benson looked appalled. 

Clara just rolled her eyes. “Are you sure you want to be a peacock, my love? Not some type of rodent? It would really suit your features.”

Both servants avoided eye contact, maintaining their best poker faces. 

Shane almost smiled. “Yeah, yeah, I know my nose is pointy. Like a peacock beak, get it?” 

“I suppose that makes sense. What did you decide for your manservant?” Clara asked casually. “My lady-in-waiting requested a fox costume.”

Shane sniffed, suddenly being very interested in the masks Benson offered. “Angel. Wings, etcetera.”

Clara smirked. “A slutty angel?”

 _“Of course,”_ Shane answered shortly. “I chose that costume ages ago. Dumb idea, it’s not very accurate.” 

Clara raised her eyebrows. “What, would a demon be more accurate? I would have chosen that for _you.”_

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shane rolled his eyes, huffing a sigh. “No, he’s just....” 

“Just what?” Clara prompted.

“Not much fun anymore.” 

_Of course Shane thinks the manservant was hired to entertain him._

Fiona looked almost as if she wanted to say something, but she apparently decided against it. Instead, choosing to finish lacing Clara’s corset with one last _yank._. Clara stepped into the hoop as elegantly as she could, gripping Fiona’s hand.

As the young girl began layering her skirts, Clara examined her fiancé, who looked sullen and dejected. It wasn’t right; he’d been excited about this night for weeks. “You two had a fight, didn’t you?”

“Not really. He just started being an asshole. I don’t know, just leave it, Clara.” 

She placed her hands on her hips, gazing at herself in the mirror as the maid fitted the final layer on, fixing the bodice. Clara made eye contact with Fiona and nodded vigorously: she looked amazing. The white feathered detailing on the dress gave her an ethereal glow; her hair tumbled down her back; her blue eyes looked bright and keen beneath the glittering mask.

She turned to Shane. “Oh, sure, you couldn’t have possibly done anything wrong. With your charms and all.”

“I said _leave it_ , Clara.” Shane looked in the mirror, smoothing his hair over. 

“Fine.” Clara waited until the servants had left the room. “I know you like him, though. You’re not fooling anyone.”

“I’m not trying to fool anyone,” Shane turned to Clara, giving her a cursory up-and-down. She did the same. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Clara begrudgingly took his hand.

* * *

The masquerade ball was everything Shane had expected. A whole lot of pomp and circumstance, unnecessary grandeur, and a ridiculous waste of money.

But… 

Shane slowly stepped down the centre of the staircase, a smile tugging at his lips. The music. The dancing. The This business with Ryan could wait a while. Shane was going to enjoy this ball if it killed him, damn it. 

The hubbub of music and chatter filling the air subsided, hundreds of masked couples turning to face the grand staircase as Shane paused, looking out over the crowd. A sea of colourful dresses and wigs, bright smiles gleaming under unblinking masks.

“Prince Alexander Cedric Madej,” the announcer called out with a booming voice. 

Polite applause. 

“And his lovely fiancé, Princess Clarissa Antonella Abernathy of Scotland!” 

Raucous applause. _Ugh._

Shane turned reluctantly to watch, adjusting his mask as Clara joined his side. She was wearing the white feathered dress, her hair pinned up and a sparkling mask. Probably diamonds, because she just had to show him up.

She held out a gloved hand. _Ugh, ugh, ugh._ Shane grabbed it and stomped down the rest of the steps, dragged along by Clara. Her stupid heels _click-click-clicking_ all the way. 

The dance wasn’t quite as excruciating as Shane had anticipated: there were some foot stomps and stifled giggles, but it could have been worse. He distantly thought that he might actually like Clara, if he wasn’t going to be forced to look at her _naked._

* * *

As soon as he possibly could, Shane made his escape from the scintillating conversation with his mother and a pompous old businessman who was clearly trying to marry his son off to Katie. 

“He’s a lovely boy, your Highness!” the man simpered, pointing over his shoulder at a forty-something year old, who was leering at a young woman on the other side of the ballroom.

“Look, Sir Robert, I appreciate the sentiment but-“ 

“Princess Kaitlin would _love_ him,” Sir Robert interrupted Diana. Wise choice. 

Shane snorted derisively.

“I think you’ll find her name is _Catherine_ ,” Diana’s voice was steely. 

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” he tried, squirming under her gaze. 

“Goodbye, mother!” Shane cut in, plucking a champagne glass from a passing maid and taking a long sip. “And… goodbye, Rodney!”

Trying not to laugh, he sidled away, ignoring Mother’s stony glare. If looks could kill…. well, he would’ve died years ago. Shane looked around the room, over the heads of the guests. 

_Where was Princess Kaitlin, then?_

Katie had already shown off her costume a couple weeks prior: she was a phoenix, with a long, red, feathered gown and a gold mask. She’d gone with a red lip; a bold choice. Either way, she shouldn’t be too hard to find. 

And find her he did.

* * *

They really should have locked the door.

Prince Alexander Cedric Madej stood at the doorway, his expression frozen in horror. It was understandable; he’d just walked in on two princesses in quite a compromising position. 

“Shane, I-” Clara tried, quickly pulling the strap of her dress back up over her shoulder and attempting to tidy her smudged lipstick. _Perfect timing, thank you so much, Shane._

Shane clutched at his chest and leaned against the doorframe, as if he could barely handle the weight of what he’d just seen. “My fianceé…? And my sister?! I can’t believe this…”

“Shut the door!” Katie hissed, face beet red. She lurched to her feet, yanking her skirts back down to make herself more… _decent._

Shane stepped in and somberly closed the door behind him, looking utterly devastated. “I’ve never been so betrayed, and by my own family, too. I guess the wedding’s off now…”

Now Katie looked horrified. She patted her hair down, trying to re-pin the once immaculate dark locks, now tumbling down across her forehead. “No, Shane, we’re sorry; it didn’t mean anything!”

Clara crossed her arms. _Rude._

Shane pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes delicately. “My heart is broken… torn to pieces. Clarissa, I LOVED you!”

Clara rolled her eyes. “Oh, fuck off.” 

Shane’s expression burst into a shit-eating grin. “Nah, I actually don’t care. Do whatever you like, I don’t give a shit. I just don’t know how you can stomach it, Katie.” 

Clara glared. He shrugged.

“Aw, well. See you later, babes.” With a peace sign, he was out the door. 

Katie flopped back onto the loveseat beside her, huffing. “I can’t believe him sometimes-”

The door opened again. _For fuck’s sake._ Shane popped his enormous head in. “Before I go, have either of you seen Ryan?” He took in the blank stares. “No? Alright, carry on. Just don’t get pregnant, either of you.” He cackled.

Clara was over this. She grabbed her stockings from the floor and whipped them at Shane’s head, forcing him to duck. “Ew!” he shrieked, before finally, finally fucking off for good.

Clara leaned back in her seat, feeling the warm flush on her cheeks as she laughed. She was still mid-chuckle when she felt Katie’s fingertips under her chin, gently tilting Clara’s face towards hers. Clara’s heart pounded, the scent of champagne and jasmine filling the air. 

She leaned in, her full lips hovering around Clara’s ear. Her other hand ran through Clara’s hair, twisting a golden curl around her finger. 

“Now, where were we?”

* * *

Shane needed more alcohol. He pulled the door shut behind him, leaving them to whatever they were gonna do. While he didn’t exactly understand the appeal, Shane could respect the game. 

Now. Ryan. Where was that sullen little knight? Music filling his ears once more, Shane stepped out into the ballroom, craning his neck to look around. Of course, Ryan was in fact a foot shorter than the average male, so it’d be difficult to find him in this crowd. However, one figure did catch his eye. 

“Fiona!” Shane hissed, trying to squeeze through a gap between a couple in matching rabbit masks who were clearly very okay with public displays of affection, and a portly gentleman dressed as a… well, Shane wasn’t too sure what he was meant to be.

Shane lurched through and patted the young maid’s shoulder. And then noticed the wine. _Perfect!_ He grabbed a glass, and whispered in her ear. 

“Do you know where my… my…” Shane trailed off, waving a hand expressively. 

“Ryan?” Fiona looked like she was trying, unsuccessfully, to hide a smirk. “I saw him go in that direction a few minutes ago.” She pointed to the corner of the ballroom. 

“Wait!” Shane cut her off, squinting across to the other side of the ballroom. “I see some wings!” Shane gave her a gleeful thumbs up, and disappeared, once more, into the crowd. 

Time to find his Ryan.

* * *

Shane was lucky enough to find Ryan alone, away from the hubbub of the ball. 

He was wearing the costume he’d asked for, and damn, was it a good choice. The breastplate was _very_ flattering, as well the tunic hanging down to his knees, with the wings outstretched behind him. The golden mask covered his face, and what Shane presumed was a sulky little expression.

Altogether, it was almost exactly as he’d requested. Shane had been so excited to see the whole look, but he’d wanted to wait until tonight.

In his head, Shane had pictured sauntering up to Ryan and saying something seductive into his ear. But as he was a little drunk, it came out more as, “Wow, you look…” i

Ryan turned. “Why thank you, Your Highness,” he said in an exaggeratedly high voice. He was a little muffled behind the mask.

Shane laughed. “No need to call me that. You know it’s Shane.” He looked down at his wine glass, swirling it pretentiously in his hand as he bit his lip. “So, are we friends now?”

“Oh my… Friends with a prince?” Ryan nodded vigorously. “It’d be an honour.” 

Huh. He was either drunk or just _really_ embracing the angel role. Shane he may as well play along. As a peacock, he certainly knew how to be cocky. “It is, isn’t it?” He smirked and placed his glass on a nearby ledge, sizing Ryan up. Did he get shorter?

This thought was cut short when Ryan pushed him gently against the wall. Shane’s eyes widened, but he wasn’t complaining. They stumbled together a bit in their tipsy state, but it was still sexy as hell. “How about I prove my loyalty?” he purred. 

Oh, wow. That was easy. Shane grinned. “Go ahead, buddy.” He was too excited to hate himself for saying that. 

Ryan didn’t even hesitate, smashing his lips against Shane’s. Their masks clanked together, but they were too hurried to care. Ryan’s kiss was rough and impatient; his tongue demanded entrance, and Shane was more than happy to give in. He tasted like ale, and frankly smelled like a tavern, but so did everyone here. 

Ryan pulled away, still pressing Shane against the wall. He only gave Shane a moment to gasp for air before he was back at it again, tonging him sloppily. His facial hair scratched at his cheek. It was strange. The sensation felt… unfamiliar. Ryan was quite a different kisser when he was drunk.

Shane opened his eyes after another moment, frankly getting bored. Ryan just kept going at it. And that was fine. Shane was still happy to be there, happy they made up, happy to be kissing him… before he saw Sir Ryan of Tyneham pass by the end of the hall, looking rather pissed.

Shane gasped and pushed Ryan #1 away. “Who are you?!”

Ryan #1 slyly removed his mask to reveal he _clearly_ wasn’t Ryan. The imposter was bearded, with a broad grin and thick brows. “I’m, uh, Steve. I work for the Abernathies; I helped plan this whole thing. You don’t have to tell me who _you_ are, of course…” The imposter winked.

???

Steve moved back in for the royal jewels. Shane pushed him away. “What the fuck, Steve?! How could you do this to me?!”

Steve’s face fell. “I thought we were having fun?”

Shane glared, wiping his mouth dramatically. “We have nothing, Steve. NOTHING!” He didn’t even bother to take in Steve’s heartbroken expression before he took off down the hallway, searching angrily for the _real_ Ryan.


End file.
